My Blazing Love For You
by Lady Veratine
Summary: Draco's dad is dead, his heart is set with vengeance, but the dead embers of love are beginning to burn again. DMHr. CHAPTER 11 UP after 2 years!
1. My Blazing Love For You

DISCLAIMER ~ I own NOTHING apart from the poem. That poem is MINE!  
  
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Chapter One  
My Blazing Love For You  
  
The Great Hall was garbed in black, most peculiar for a Christmas feast. The Christmas trees were there, yes, Dumbledore would not deny his students of those, but they too were garbed in black. Black tinsel, black baubles, black candles with black flames. The students always wore black, though the empty colour held a dismal meaning that night on the Eve of Christmas Day.  
  
The past couple of days had been labeled the Nightmare Before Christmas, and rightly so. Almost a year after they had been imprisoned, the Death Eaters had broken free from Azkaban. They had been thrown in at the end of the last year, Draco's fifth year at the Wizarding School. With revenge in their hearts and vile passion in their veins they stormed Hogwarts, and unleashed all their rage and hate. They all escaped under the veil of the night. All but one.  
  
A single body lay lifeless upon the cruel flags of the Entrance Hall; a look of untainted malice lightly laced with surprise set upon his face. His long pale hair was spread about his head, creating an unsuited halo. At the centre of the halo was a red patch, where the wizard's head had been dashed to the ground. All around him was a crowd of shocked and horrified pupils. Harry Potter stood like a statue of ice, with his wand raised and his chest heaving, looking down upon the dead man.  
  
Someone at the back was struggling, trying to reach the front. He sounded frantic.  
  
'Let me through! Get out of my way, idiot! What -'  
  
Draco Malfoy halted abruptly. His silvery blue eyes widen in distress and dismay. There was no colour to leave his cheeks. He stared upon the face he knew so well, hated yet loved and uttered one word.  
  
'Dad.'  
  
That was all yesterday. Draco insisted that his father should be packed into a coffin immediately, without fuss, and buried in the school grounds. A slight uproar was caused, but it was, as always, put right again by Professor Dumbledore. Now the coffin lay on a table in front of the staffs' own table in the Great Hall, facing straight down the centre of the two middle tables of the students, pointing at the great oaken doors. The teachers looked down at the coffin, for their table was upon a podium, so they had an excellent view of all that happened in the hall. Dumbledore glanced over at young Potter, who sat betwixt his faithful friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. He looked pale and distraught. The Headmaster turned and fixed his gaze once again upon the doors at the far end. Draco Malfoy was late.  
  
Inside the Slytherin Common Room, within his bedroom, or the small corner of the dorm where his bed was that he had sectioned off from the rest with thick silencing curtains, Draco was staring hard at the mirror. He knew he was late. He knew he was to give a small speech, but his stomach was writhing. He had not eaten since he saw his father lying there. His usually attractive face was gaunt, sickly white and contorted with such grief. His thick platinum blonde hair was liberated from the customary gel and hung limply in a ragged style over his forehead and around his face. It wasn't very long, but he decided he would get it cut.  
  
He closed his eyes, feeling so hollow and yet so free. Without his father there would be no more shouting and insults, and no more looks of disgust. Without his father he was stuck. He was young and he needed a father to look up to, even though Draco knew the man was terrible. He let out a shaky sigh. He looked at his notes that were held in his trembling hands and took a deep breath before making his way to the Hall.  
  
Every single pair of eyes turned and latched upon the huge doors, as they swung wide open. Then every eye left the doors and latched onto Draco. They all noticed how dreadful he looked, how thin and somewhat ill he looked. He walked hastily towards the coffin, without his well-known stagger. He stepped up behind his father in the death box and glanced at all the faces, many showing great pity. Draco longed to shout out, to scream, 'HOW DARE YOU PITY ME! YOU DON'T LOVE ME!' but resisted and cleared his throat.  
  
'Well, I-I would just like to say -' he paused and inhaled deeply, '- I would just like to s-say a few words on - on behalf of my father.  
  
'I know he was terrible. You all knew him as the heartless murderer and hater of all muggles and mudbl- muggleborns. But he was my father, and that's how I knew him. That is how I see him. I loved him for who he was - my father - and I hated him for what he was - a Death Eater. I loved him when he loved me. I loved him when he hated me. I know what my friends think of him, and I know what the rest of you think of him. Now you have a rough I idea of what I think of him. But what I want to say could not take form in ordinary words, so I have written a poem.'  
  
Draco sniffed loudly and looked to his notes in order to hide his face. Every single person in that Hall could feel the beginnings of that tight knot in their throat. Pansy bit her lip as she saw a tear glistening on Draco's cheek, the cheek of the one who would never love her how she loved him. At the Gryffindor table Hermione shed her own single tear, and placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder as he buried his face in his hands. 'So, um, this is how it goes. It's called My Blazing Love For You.'  
  
Bolt the door and shut the blind  
  
Smash the glass to pieces  
  
There is no more love for me to find  
  
Kill the joy and paint the rainbow grey  
  
I think that happiness is extinct  
  
Or gone to live in a place far away  
  
Again Draco sniffed. All the girls had tears in their eyes and all the boys bit their knuckles to stop the tears in their eyes.  
  
I gave you my eternal love  
  
I hope you gave me yours  
  
Tie a black ribbon around the neck of a dove  
  
I want to stay with those I love forever  
  
I'll adore them to their graves  
  
I want to send away the others  
  
And I'll hate them to their graves  
  
Harry hid his face in his arms on the table, remorse and confusion sweeping through him. Hermione struggled to constrain her sobs. Ron stared at his hands and bit his lip.  
  
All that shines must go so crack the sun  
  
Shatter the moon; blot out all the stars  
  
Send the lights down into Hell, each and every one  
  
I do not need them  
  
For you were all that shone to me  
  
My sun my moon, my dawn and noon  
  
My stars so bright, my day and night  
  
My joys my sorrows, and all my tomorrows  
  
My work and rest, my worst and best  
  
I love you  
  
Draco had to stop as his voice cracked. Many tears were let go at the sight of the mournful wreck at the head of the coffin, but Draco bit his lip, tasting his flowing tears and valiantly ploughed on.  
  
I love you when you love me  
  
I love you when you hate me  
  
No one can take away that blaze in my heart  
  
The blaze that burnt when we were together  
  
The blaze that burns now that we are apart  
  
My blazing love that will never die  
  
My blazing love for you  
  
Sobbing, yet trying so hard to hide it, Draco gathered his notes and ran for all he was worth, out those doors and through the Entrance Hall, almost tripping over Mrs. Norris. He pulled open the colossal doors that led outside and was hit by a gust of spiteful, cold wind. Snowflakes swept in then fell to the floor to melt as the doors were closed again. Draco made his crunching was over the deep snow, to where he did not know. He was sobbing uncontrollably now, but he did not care. If anybody was about they wouldn't be able to hear or see him through the loud and thick curtains of swirling snow and roaring wind.  
  
Suddenly he heard a crack and he felt the shocking freeze of cold water as it seeped into his shoe. He had reached the lake that had a think layer of ice over it. Draco could barely see a three feet in front of him because so much snow was falling. He let his notes go and watched them twirl and dance with the snowflakes until he could see them no more. He felt cold. Very much on the outside and even more on the inside.  
  
He wanted to die, which, he thought, I probably will in this weather. He wanted to be with his father. Right there and then. He wanted to be six years old again; all snuggled up between his mother and father in bed, trying but failing to go to sleep, wondering what he was going to receive from under the Christmas tree the next day. He always did that on Christmas Eve, though as his body began to change he felt awkward and his mother slept in the middle, in-between her two favourite men, her husband and her son. Draco smiled. He still had his mother. She was cold and harsh but it was only him and Lucius that had seen her soft and loving side, and they both knew that side only made an appearance when they were there.  
  
Still thinking of his beautiful mother, Draco drifted off into unconsciousness, not caring if he woke up in the morning upon the snow, or somewhere in the afterlife.  
  
AN: Blimey, never thought I'd ever be writing fanfic. Review if you want, to hell with it FLAME me if you want just tell me what you thought. And tell me if I should carry on with it, but beware, if enough of you feel like I should carry on with it I have no idea what - okay maybe I *do* know. I'll get our dearest Hermy and Draco together. How bland. (By the way that was my first fanfic so be nice, not my first story but yes, my first fanfic). 


	2. The Best Christmas Present Ever

DISCLAIMER ~ I own none of the characters except the new one. You'll see  
what I mean later  
  
THANKS TO ~  
  
Mariah1 ~ I'm glad you liked it and here's another chapter for you  
  
Sila-chan ~ Did it really make you cry? Me too! I was pretty depressed when  
I wrote it and I'm pleased that you want me to continue.  
  
Draco is the man ~ I didn't expect it to turn out so sad and deep but then  
that poem is pretty heart-rending. Not sure about any marriages.  
  
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Chapter Two  
The Best Christmas Present Ever  
  
Colin Creevey sat down at the Gryffindor table next to his younger brother, Dennis. The atmosphere was solemn, as was the sky like ceiling of the Great Hall, all grey and murky. He was thinking about last night, and that speech. He looked around at all the sad faces and knew that they too must be thinking the same as him. Colin gathered up a dozen or so slices of toast into a napkin and stood up.  
  
'Hey Dennis, I'll see you later.'  
  
'Going to feed the squid?'  
  
'Yeah, figured she might want some company.'  
  
Dennis nodded and let his older brother go. Colin made his way out and in to the Entrance Hall, still thinking about the night before and the few days previous to that. He hated Malfoy, like all the other Gryffindors, but he thought that the sixth year boy had been particularly brave up there by his father's coffin. He slowly descended the steps, mainly because they so slippery with ice and snow. It was a glorious Christmas day but it was a terrible pity that the joyous event was shadowed by such heartache.  
  
As the young wizard made his way to the lake he noticed a black heap lying by the edge, half buried in the snow, and wondered what on earth it could be. He quickened his pace, eager to see what it was. Colin came to a halt beside it and gasped when he saw what it was.  
  
'Malfoy!'  
  
Draco Malfoy did not reply, nor did he show indications that he had even heard the other. Stuffing the toast into his pocket, Colin bent down and poked Draco's arm. A muffled grunt came from the boy.  
  
'Malfoy? Hey, Malfoy can you hear me?'  
  
Malfoy rolled over onto his back. He looked terrible. His lips were blue, his skin was white and there were very dark rings under his bloodshot eyes.  
  
'Leave me alone to die.'  
  
'You're lucky you *haven't* died out here. Were you here all night?'  
  
'Piss off.' Colin looked offended. He gazed out over the lake where the squid was breaking her way through the ice to the surface. He through a slice of toast and a tentacle reached out and snatched it from where it floated.  
  
'Why are *you* out here?' asked Draco.  
  
'Feeding the squid.'  
  
Draco gave the Gryffindor and odd look.  
  
'Feeding the squid?' he repeated skeptically. 'Okay.'  
  
There was a long silence between the two. At last Colin said,  
  
'Your mother's coming to watch the burial today.'  
  
Draco whipped his head around and stared hard at Colin, who stood looking perfectly innocent.  
  
'How do you know that?'  
  
'I heard some Slytherins talking about it.'  
  
Draco felt relieved. His precious mother was coming, and he would be able to see her again, and maybe go home with her to spend the rest of the holidays at the manor. He sat up and stared judgingly and the small boy standing beside him. Gryffindors were a strange, strange breed.  
  
'Um, do you know when she'll be here?'  
  
Colin shrugged, throwing more toast to the squid. Draco found his feet, feeling very shaky and stiff. He then proceeded to have a fit of coughs and sneezes. He looked up, bleary eyed, red nosed and sniffed noisily. He sneezed once more and without so much as a thanks or a goodbye to Colin he headed towards the castle, where he would then give the matron a visit.  
  
Once inside the Hospital Wing Draco was assaulted by the sounds of coughs and sneezes and almost immediately the room fell silent and every single person, including the matron, turned to him. He walked at a snail's pace down the middle of the ward, trying to avoid the stares of the ill persons in the beds either side of him. He could feel the perplexing clash of hate and pity radiating from them, hitting him like a myriad bolts of lightening. Then they all began to whisper, so quietly and so many of them that Draco had absolutely no chance of catching a word they uttered.  
  
He reached the matron, who stood with a very angry looking Crabbe and Goyle, and a very upset looking Granger, and a very annoyed looking Potter. Draco peered over Goyle's shoulder and saw Weasley lying on the bed, completely beaten up. He saw that Crabbe bore a broken fist and Goyle had a bleeding nose. Madame Pomfrey whirled around, bearing down on the two Slytherins with the look of a grizzly bear going through Menopause plastered on her face.  
  
'You two are to report straight to Professor Snape!'  
  
Draco sneered. Snape wouldn't do anything to those from his own house.  
  
'Yes matron,' chorused the two thugs in their thick Brummie accents and they trudged off to find the Head of Slytherin. Madame Pomfrey suddenly noticed Draco standing there and smiled somewhat pitifully at him. Draco glared.  
  
'What can I do for you d - oh good gracious, you look terrible!'  
  
'Thank you matron.'  
  
She grabbed Draco's chin, forcing his face up and having a good look at him.  
  
'You look like you've been asleep outside all night!'  
  
'I have, matron.'  
  
The matron gasped, looking shocked.  
  
'You could have *died*!'  
  
'That was the general idea, matron.'  
  
Her face softened, as she gazed upon the disheveled lad before her. He looked so torn apart and helpless, staring into deep space, biting his lip and shifting from one foot to another.  
  
'I'll be right back, dear,' and she shuffled off to fetch some of her magical medicines. Draco was left alone, feeling extremely uncomfortable and slightly embarrassed. He chanced a glance at the others and saw that they were all staring at him. He turned his back on them, inhaling unsteadily. To his left he felt the eyes of the Golden Trio and turned to them, scowling. He tied to sneer but it didn't work as his head pounded terribly. Draco turned his back on them only to come face to face with a very pretty woman lying in the bed in front of him.  
  
'Mother!'  
  
He rushed forwards, beaming at her. There she was, big with babe and looking very comfortable propped up against many soft pillows and eating an odd snack of sardines and chocolate ice cream. Draco leant over and kissed her cheek before looking down at her food.  
  
'Pregnant women eat such strange things.'  
  
Narcissa laughed and licked her spoon.  
  
'I thought it was going to be today, but it turned out to be a false alarm.'  
  
Draco smiled happily, the first proper smile he'd ever had on his lips in a long time. He pulled a chair up beside the bed and put his ear to her large belly. He pulled back, chuckling.  
  
'It kicked me!'  
  
'Well I hope you two won't be like that when it's born.'  
  
They both sat there quietly, enjoying each other's company. The Hospital Wing itself was very quiet, and Draco knew that everyone was looking at them, but he didn't care. He was with his mother and future sibling.  
  
'I wonder what it'll be.' he wondered aloud.  
  
'It'll be a baby, of course,' said Narcissa, finishing off her ice cream and attacking the rest of the sardines. Draco huffed exasperatedly.  
  
'No! I mean will it be a boy or a girl?'  
  
'I don't know. I could have gone to find out but I didn't want to. I mean, I don't really mind what it is as long as it's not deformed or anyth-'  
  
She clutched her belly, shock playing across her face.  
  
'Oh my god, I think - I think -'  
  
Draco panicked and leapt up, knocking his chair over.  
  
'It's it! It's happening, isn't it? I'll - I'll get - MATRON! MATRON IT'S HAPPENING!'  
  
Madame Pomfrey came rushing out with towels and bottles of medicine.  
  
'I'm coming! I'm coming!' she panted as she hurried over. She pulled the thick curtains around Narcissa's bed, placing a silencing charm on them to hide the woman's gasps and screams of pain as she went into labour.  
  
'Now, Mr Malfoy, I have to ask you to leave.'  
  
'But - what - no! No, I don't bloody well want to!'  
  
'Mr Malfoy! OUT!'  
  
Draco was pushed through the curtains, temporarily revealing his mother's screams to the ward, catching everyone's attention. He looked anxious and white, clutching the hair on the sides of his head as he paced up and down. All the young wizards and witches ogled him strangely, as if he'd just dropped off the moon. Then someone whispered loudly,  
  
'I think his mum is having the baby,' and there was a resounding 'ooooh' of realisation and some smiled and carried on with their being ill and all that. Tired of pacing Draco sat down on the last empty bed, the one next to the Golden Trio. He glanced at them, not really seeing them. He couldn't hear his mother but he knew she was in much pain. He wanted to in there with her, holding her hand, seeing her through this. He wondered if it would be a boy or a girl, what it would be named, how it would look and most of all he wondered how his father would be feeling if he was in there right now. He knew for a fact that his father had been there when he was born, that his mother had gripped her husband's hand so hard that his finger broke and he decided that maybe he didn't want to be holding her hand.  
  
Draco drummed his fingers on the bed, taking absolutely no notice whatsoever of the annoyed scowls being thrown at him from Granger.  
  
'Stop that, Malfoy,' she commanded softly. He didn't hear her and carried on drumming.  
  
'I said stop it!'  
  
Draco was seized from his trance, and looked up at Granger, slightly surprised. He then realised who was talking to him and smirked.  
  
'What?' he snapped.  
  
'Stop drumming your fingers!'  
  
Draco felt an unfathomable anger growing inside and he snarled.  
  
'Who are *you* to tell *me* what to do?'  
  
Granger's frown faltered and she turned away, her hair swaying as she did so. Draco eyed her hair. It hung loosely, just below her shoulders, and was the same colour as it had always been, though it was no longer frizzy, but it fell in glossy ringlets that caught the light attractively. Potter saw him eyeing Granger and he growled.  
  
'What are you staring at?'  
  
'Nothing Potty Potmaker. Just your ugly bucktoothed beaver friend.'  
  
Granger turned around and gave Draco a big toothy smile, and it took him a couple of seconds to see that she was no longer bucktoothed. Then he remembered the incident back in their fourth year. Grumbling about girls and beavers he swung his legs up onto the bed and crossed his arms, trying to ignore the poorly restrained giggles from the three Gryffindors.  
  
Time passed slowly. Many of the patients who felt better got up and left, and many visitors came see those who were not feeling better, bringing Christmas presents with them. Draco saw these presents and remembered that he still had to open his own. He didn't really care though, his mother was in labour and his father was dead, those were the only things he cared for or thought about right now.  
  
Six hours later the matron came out from the curtains looking very worn out yet smiley. His mother was no longer screaming but someone else was.  
  
'You can come in now Mr Malfoy.'  
  
Draco eagerly jumped off the bed and ran to his mother's side. She looked so tired, her forehead shone with sweat and there were tears on her face. He ran to her side and showered her face in kisses.  
  
'Six hours mum, you must be exhausted!'  
  
'Six hours is nothing. I was in labour with you for two days!'  
  
'Two days?'  
  
His eyes widened. Two days! Then suddenly he saw the tiny bundle of cloth that enveloped his new sibling.  
  
'What is it?' he asked softly.  
  
'A girl,' came the barely audible reply.  
  
Draco smiled as he pulled back the cloth to reveal the baby's face more.  
  
'God, she looks like a gremlin!'  
  
Narcissa scowled, but Draco did not notice.  
  
'But she is very beautiful anyway.'  
  
His face felt wet, and with a slight shock he realised he was crying. (AN: it really does make you cry!)  
  
'Can I hold her?'  
  
His mother nodded and gently handed the newborn babe over into Draco's waiting arms.  
  
'She's so small!' he whispered, his voice cracking with euphoria. 'And so cute and so beautiful and so unbelievably quiet!'  
  
The baby yawned, her tiny toothless mouth opening wide. Draco gasped. He reached his hand down and coaxed the hand of his new sister open. All of her miniature fingers wrapped around his index finger and Draco smiled blissfully. He looked at his mother who was smiling too. She reached out and wiped the flowing tears from her son's cheeks and ran her fingers through his hair.  
  
'What are you going to call her?' he questioned quietly, enjoying the relaxing feel of his mother's fingers on his scalp.  
  
'I don't know yet.'  
  
'Thanks mum,' he said with new tears falling.  
  
'For what?'  
  
'For the best Christmas present ever.'  
  
AN: Well there's the 2nd chapter up. Hope you all like it! Reviews wouldn't go unnoticed *hint hint*. I'm still kinda working on the plot, I didn't expect anyone to like it enough to want me to continue but I got a general idea. Chapter 3 will be up ASAP. 


	3. Poem Ressurected

DISCLAIMER ~ As you all know I do not own anyone except the new Malfoy.  
  
THANKS TO ~ Draco is the man, Ren26, Blood Rose007, shelleekitten, LiL-Miz- Chief, Tashal288, Caramel Kenzie and Lux-soap. Oh and Leigh Nithra, who says that Draco is just a little jackass who doesn't care about anyone but himself. He still hates Harry and Ron though, is that good enough for you?  
  
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Chapter Three Poem Resurrected  
  
(AN: those who want romance in this story may begin to feel a little bit better about the way things are going. Not a lot though. We see a tiny bit of the Draco we know from the books as well)  
  
That night Draco stayed in the Hospital Wing with his mother and sister, who in the end had been named Rosace, which is a slight alteration of the Latin name meaning Little Rose. Moonlight streamed in through the window, carving a deadly blade through the dark and playing grotesquely upon the face of the new man of Malfoy Manor. Draco shifted in his sleep, throwing and arm over his mother, inadvertently embracing Rosace who lay between them. His eyes fluttered open as an odd sound came from somewhere in the ward nearby.  
  
Someone was weeping.  
  
They brightness of the moonbeam dazzled him as he sat up and looked around for the source of the noise. He finally found it as the figure in the bed opposite him. Her shoulders were shaking as she sobbed softly, and her curly hair quivered. Draco's eyes widened when he recognised her a Granger. Potter had and he was surprised to see that Weasley had gone too. Rosace made a quiet gurgling noise. Fearing that she might wake up Draco hissed at Granger.  
  
'Shhhh! Granger, shut up! You'll wake the baby!'  
  
She only sobbed louder and buried her hands into her arms on the side of the bed. Cursing quietly Draco carefully clambered out of the bed and tip toed over to Granger. He leant over her and whispered harshly,  
  
'What are you crying about? Shut up!'  
  
'L-leave me alone, M-Malfoy!' she gasped through her sobs.  
  
Draco stood up to his full height again and then sat down on the bed, deciding to handle this situation logically.  
  
'Okay. What's wrong?' he asked as though he was asking her if she wanted a cup of tea.  
  
'Get l-lost.'  
  
Draco sighed though gritted teeth. Women were so difficult.  
  
'What's wrong?' he repeated, more forcefully this time. 'You can't possibly even think about trying to stop the crying until you get whatever the problem is out of your system.'  
  
Hermione glanced up at this plain yet understandable logic coming from Malfoy and frowned, looking quiet odd in the moonlight with her swollen lips and puffy eyes, her face shining with tears. Malfoy had to turn away as he grinned. Granger looked so stupid!  
  
'So, you gonna tell me?'  
  
'No.'  
  
'Good, I don't want to hear about it,' and he stood up, grabbed a pillow and shoved it into her arms, making her squeak in surprise.  
  
'Cry into that, because if you wake my baby sister up I'll hex you into some distant millennia.'  
  
Draco watched her break down into more pitiful sobs and she buried her face into the pillow, muffling her sound by a considerable amount. Satisfied, Draco strode over to the bed and got back in, gently so as not to wake his mother or Rosace.  
  
His mind had been whirling none stop since that black day when he saw his father dead on the floor. His hair all bloody and spread out like a halo, his arms and legs akimbo and Potter. He just stood there with his wand raised. Draco clenched his teeth angrily and clutched hard at the bed sheet. It was Potter who had killed his father, Potter who had caused him this misery. He had hated that mop head since he first met him on the train. He remembered that day when he was to catch the Hogwarts Express to his First Year. Then he looked over at his mother and sister, who both looked so placid as they slept, and the tight knot of anger in his chest loosened slightly. He sighed and fell into a light yet untroubled sleep.  
  
It was the crack of dawn and the pink rise of the sun stretched out over the horizon and in through the Hospital Wing, bathing the abode of sick persons in a blushing tone. Draco had been awake for some time, and had been awoken many times before during the night by Rosace. Knowing that he wasn't going to get back to sleep anytime soon, Draco decided to pay Mercury, his eagle owl, a visit. Cautiously climbing out of the bed, he slipped his shoes and his cloak back on. Suddenly he felt an odd sensation in his nose and he sneezed loudly. He snapped his head around and looked at Rosace, but she hadn't stirred one bit.  
  
Smiling slightly he walked out of the ward, taking tone that Granger had gone, and made his way to the Owlry. After about fifteen minutes he reached the steps that led up to the reeking tower. Just as he was about to walk through the door he heard a voice, a female voice. He frowned and snarled when he heard what she was saying.  
  
'.And paint the rainbow grey. I think that happiness is extinct.'  
  
Draco was livid. How dare she! She thinks she can go and read that poem out any old time and any old place!  
  
'.I gave my eternal love. I hope you gave me yours. Tie a black ribbon around the neck of a dove.'  
  
That was it. Draco cracked. With a shout of anger he marched into the room, faltering only when he saw that it was Granger.  
  
'HOW DARE YOU!' he bellowed, making Granger quake. 'HOW DARE YOU STEAL *MY* POEM THAT *I* WROTE FOR MY DEAD FATHER!'  
  
Granger blanched. The sight of Malfoy, red with anger and spitting in rage, screaming his lungs out at her was quite scary.  
  
'SO YOU FOUND MY NOTES DID YOU? WHERE, MUDBLOOD? WHERE DID YOU FIND THEM?'  
  
Granger trembled and answered in a small voice.  
  
'I didn't.'  
  
'What?' snapped Draco.  
  
'I didn't - I-I remembered it and wrote it down.'  
  
Draco's face fell from fury to shock.  
  
'You remembered it?' he asked weakly.  
  
'Every single word.'  
  
This was not was Draco had been expecting. It had hit him like a kick in the gut, like a cascade of arctic water on his head.  
  
'Why?'  
  
She smiled softly.  
  
'It was so beautiful,' she whispered. 'Just about everyone cried.'  
  
Draco was severely stunned. He ran a hand through his hair.  
  
'Uh, speaking of crying,' he began, calming down, 'why *were* you crying last night?'  
  
'That is absolutely none of your business!' she barked angrily.  
  
Draco scowled.  
  
'Fine,' he said sulkily. 'Just being civilly curious.'  
  
Granger stared hard at Malfoy, standing there, seemingly at a loss, running his fingers through his gorgeous blonde hair.  
  
'Okay Malfoy,' she said, a plan forming in her mind. 'You tell me what *I* want to know, and I tell you what *you* want to know.'  
  
Draco glanced up, rolling the suggestion through his mind.  
  
'I'm not sure if I really want to know that much,' he replied haughtily.  
  
'I'll give you back your poem,' she whispered, holding the piece of parchment out. Something panged inside Malfoy as he saw the familiar words upon the thick, yellowy page, and he nodded, not taking his eyes off the poem.  
  
'Fine. What do you want to know?'  
  
She smiled at her success. Now she was going to find out what she had always wanted to know.  
  
'What's the *real* reason you hate Harry so much?'  
  
'WHAT?'  
  
Draco glared darkly at the girl before him, yet he was contemplating whether to answer nonetheless. Granger waved the parchment with the poem on.  
  
'Okay, mudblood.' Draco inhaled sharply, preparing for what he was about reveal. 'He made my father hate me.'  
  
Granger's neatly plucked eyebrows shot up.  
  
'How?'  
  
'Haven't I told you enough, mudblood?'  
  
She ignored the insult, eager to find out what Draco meant.  
  
'I don't understand what you mean.'  
  
Draco growled, annoyed by her inquisitiveness, but he carried on all the same.  
  
'Well, I was supposed to make friends with Potter, so that he would visit the manor and all in the holidays, therefore walking into the clutches of the Dark Lord -'  
  
Granger gasped.  
  
'- It didn't work though. I failed my father and immediately became a disgrace to him. He never forgave me.'  
  
By now Draco's voice had been reduced to a soft, quivering whisper. His chin trembled. Hermione looked on with pity in her eyes.  
  
'I knew I had lost my father forever in that very instant when Potter didn't accept my hand. I've spent every single day since then trying to win back Dad's love. And now it's too late.'  
  
Granger took a step towards Draco.  
  
'So that's why you hate Harry?' she said gently. 'Because he took your father's love from you?'  
  
'Bingo,' replied the Slytherin, his voice sounding funny with the knot of tears in his throat. 'And when I saw him lying there - and Potter standing there.'  
  
His face grew sinister and wicked as he frowned and snarled.  
  
'I'll kill him.'  
  
Granger looked up, surprised by this change of mood.  
  
'I'll kill him!' he growled even louder. 'First he takes my father's love from me and then he takes my father away completely! I'LL KILL HIM!'  
  
Turning on his heel, cloak billowing ominously, Draco stormed out of the Owlry. A couple of seconds later he stormed back in, glaring at a terrified Granger.  
  
'WHERE IS HE? TELL ME YOU STUPID, PATHETIC, DIRTY MUDBL-'  
  
SMACK!  
  
Draco had a sudden flash back of his third year as Granger walloped him around his face with all her furious might. He looked up at her, from where he had stumbled to the ground, looking astonished and hurt.  
  
'I know you've just lost your father,' she hollered. 'But you CAN'T go and kill Harry!'  
  
'WHY NOT?' Draco retorted wrathfully, leaping up and grabbing Granger's wrists aggressively, looking right into her stunning deep brown eyes. 'He killed my dad!' A tear escaped from the inner corner of his eye. More followed until his face was completely wet. He let the girl's arms drop and he backed off.  
  
'He killed my dad,' he repeated faintly.  
  
Granger gazed at the blonde as he did his best to hide his tears.  
  
'Hey now, stop that,' she said tenderly. 'Come on now, stop it.'  
  
Draco turned his back to her.  
  
'Leave me alone,' he managed to choke out, still sounding very ticked off.  
  
'No,' and she walked forward, opening her arms, ready to hug him.  
  
'What are you doing?' he stuttered. 'Don't touch me -'  
  
'I'm going to hug you, you big wimp.'  
  
'No!' he cried. 'Go away-' but his refusals were muffled as she pulled him into an affectionate and loving hug. At first he just stood there, rigid in her embrace, trying to resist the warm feeling. Finally he gave in, and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her soft hair that smelt like fresh strawberries. After what seemed an eternity of cuddling they pulled away from each other, both looking slightly uncomfortable. His tears had dried, and he felt slightly better.  
  
'So, er, you never told *me* what I wanted to know.'  
  
Hermione stared into his eyes before lowering them to the ground. The owls overhead hooted softly.  
  
'Oh yeah, I - well - Ron says he loves me.'  
  
Draco smirked.  
  
'.Says he really loves me and that he wants us to get together.' She drew a shaky breath. 'But I don't love him like that, and I told him so and now he's gone - he's kinda gone all weird and he won't talk to me anymore.'  
  
Draco's smirk widened.  
  
'What?' snapped Hermione, looking quiet annoyed.  
  
'I always knew it,' he responded. 'Ever since the fourth year. He was *obviously* jealous of the fact that you'd been taken to the Yule Ball by Viktor Krum.'  
  
There was a long uneasy silence between the two.  
  
'Well I had better be going,' said Draco. 'Got to see if my mum's alright - the baby and all.'  
  
He made his way to the large arched doorway. As he reached the entrance he turned back and looked at the pretty Gryffindor.  
  
'One more question Granger,' he called out. She turned and eyed him suspiciously.  
  
'What would that be then?'  
  
'Why did you hug me?'  
  
She shifted from one foot to the other, opening and closing her mouth as she tried to answer.  
  
'I have a very strong maternal streak,' she finally said. 'Everyone is always telling me so.'  
  
Draco smiled and nodded, and walked out to return to his mother and Rosace.  
  
'Malfoy!'  
  
He stuck his head back round the doorway and gave her a questioning look.  
  
'One more question for you,' she stated, failing to suppress a slight smile.  
  
'Go on,' he said in a rather unintentionally seductive voice.  
  
Hermione blinked.  
  
'Can - can I come and see the baby?' she asked hopefully.  
  
Draco grinned.  
  
'Whatever.'  
  
Hermione squealed in delight and rushed out to join Draco and together they headed back to the Hospital Wing.  
  
AN: Not much romance, but at least they kinda like each other now. There will be more in later chapters, I promise! Reviews are always welcome! Chapter 4 will be up ASAP. Suggestions for plot ideas are also welcome, but no love-conquers-all type marriages, okay? Good. 


	4. The Verbal War

DISCLAIMER ~ None of it's mine except Rosace.  
  
THANKS TO ~ AngryMew2, Bulma Greenleaf, Corn Dawg (I like the suggestion, got anymore?), Ratty, Draco is the man and Leigh Nithra.  
  
(AN: Just a small warning. There's some very mild swearing in this chapter, no f*ck or sh*t or anything like that, and there's also some violence and something which I suppose some people could class as sexual reference but it's so subtle that I wouldn't say so myself. So if you don't like it don't say I didn't warn you.)  
  
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Chapter Four ~ The Verbal War  
  
Anyone who may have seen the pair walking down the hallways together, not attacking or insulting each other would probably feel the need to go and yet their eyes checked, for Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were a very peculiar combination. They had, however, taken to walking as far away as possible from the other. Whether that was due to their unease about what had happened in the Owlry or the embers of hate were still burning, neither could tell.  
  
At last they reached the Hospital Wing, and from within they heard the pitter patter of bare feet pacing around and the soft, soothing voice of a woman. Draco peeked around the door frame to make sure his mother wasn't feeding Rosace; it would be very embarrassing if Hermione saw that. He turned and beckoned to the Gryffindor to follow him and he stepped boldly into the ward, which was now empty save the three Malfoys and the Granger.  
  
'Where's the matron?' asked Draco.  
  
'Oh, she needed to see Snape about some potion or something,' Narcissa was walking up and down with Rosace in her arms, rocking her gently, trying to get her to go to sleep. She turned and scowled as she caught sight of Hermione.  
  
'What's *that* doing here?'  
  
Draco blanched at his mother's brazen impoliteness. She was usually so courteous. Then again, Granger *is* a muggleborn, he thought to himself.  
  
'Er, she wants to see the baby.'  
  
Narcissa snarled and glared threateningly at Hermione.  
  
'What? No! Get out you filthy mudblood!'  
  
Hermione started as though someone had unexpectedly let a firework go off in her ear. Nevertheless she held her head high and answered in a stiff voice.  
  
'Very well. I have homework to be getting on with, anyway. I don't know why I wanted to come and see the rotten little brat in the first place.'  
  
And with that last comment she turned on her heel and strode briskly out of the ward, ringlets bouncing and cloak fluttering. Narcissa just stood there gaping, apparently appalled at what had just been said about her newborn baby.  
  
'Did - did you just hear that?' she cried in outrage. 'The little bitch! I've got a good mind to go out there and curse her!'  
  
'Calm down mother! You'll make Rosace cry!'  
  
Narcissa reduced her threats and insults to mere hisses and grumbles. Suddenly she whirled round and stared hard at her eldest, a steely glint of suspicion in her blue eyes.  
  
'Why was *she* with *you*?'  
  
Draco shifted about nervously, not sure whether he should answer truthfully or not.  
  
'I'm waiting.'  
  
'She was - nice to me.'  
  
Well there's a first time for everything, said a nasty little voice in his head.  
  
'She was *nice* to you,' repeated Draco's mother mockingly. 'Nice to you? What did she do, hug you and say everything's going to be okay?'  
  
The shadow of wrath and defiance loomed over the boy's face and swept through his blood.  
  
'As a matter of fact, *Mother*, she did!'  
  
Narcissa's face went white and taut; her eyes grew wide with fury and her nostrils flared. Draco knew he had pushed it and prepared himself for the worse.  
  
'YOU TOUCHED A MUDBLOOD ON THE DAY OF YOUR FATHER'S FUNERAL? YOU LET HER HUG YOU? YOU *DISGUST* ME!'  
  
Draco clenched his fists and teeth tightly, trying not to allow his temper to get out of control but all the stress, grief and rage had fused into a solid force within his heart and at last he let it break free.  
  
'YES I BLODDY WELL DID!'  
  
Rosace let out a heart-rending scream as her mother and brother waged verbal war on each other.  
  
'I DIDN'T WANT TO BUT I DID! SO YOU'D BETTER GET USED TO THE FACT!'  
  
Narcissa screamed in frustration, ignoring her daughter's own screams.  
  
'SHUT UP!' She bellowed at Draco. 'Just shut up!'  
  
She sat heavily on the side of her bed, cooing to Rosace in an attempt to calm her.  
  
'I would have thought you'd stay loyal to your father's beliefs at least until he was six feet under!' she growled through gritted teeth.  
  
It was Draco's turn to scream in frustration.  
  
'FATHER? You haven't said anything about him at all! You haven't even shown any signs that you're in the slightest bit mourned by his death!'  
  
Narcissa glared furiously at her son, but the tears of defeat, anger and distress were welling up in her eyes and she turned away, laying her attention on Rosace. Draco scowled and swept out of the Hospital Wing, feeling no pity whatsoever for his mother, but wishing that his sister hadn't been exposed to all that shouting. He was now seething, and every fibre of power in his mind was bent upon finding that wretched Granger.  
  
At last he found her, looking at a portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress and he wondered why on earth anyone would want to look at such an ugly painting.  
  
'GRANGER!' he roared. 'YOU GET YOUR WORTHLESS MUDBLOOD ASS OVER HERE *NOW*!'  
  
Hermione turned serenely on the spot, and smiled sweetly at Draco, knowing that she had caused some severe trouble back there.  
  
'Yes?'  
  
'Don't you "yes" me, mudblood,' he snarled dangerously. 'Because of *you* I am now a disgrace to my mother!'  
  
'Oh dear,' sighed Hermione. 'What a pity,' and she began to walk away.  
  
Draco's hand shot out and grabbed her by the forearm tightly, causing the girl to wince. She caught sight of the treacherous flash in the Slytherin's wild eye and a dagger of fear scraped the length of her spine.  
  
'I'll torture you,' he hissed so slowly and quietly that Hermione had to strain to hear what he was saying. 'And if you run away I will hunt you down and torture you again and again until you die. Then I will kill Potter. And then I will kill Weasley, just to finish it off nicely.'  
  
He gripped her other arm with a vice like strength and pulled her closer. Hermione trembled in fright.  
  
'HEY!'  
  
Both the blonde and the brunette whipped their heads round to the source of the noise and were greeted by the view of Harry and Ron sprinting down the corridor with venomous expressions weaved on their features. Draco threw Hermione to the ground and turned to meet the other two boys. Ron didn't even bother to question the situation; he launched himself straight at Draco. Harry knelt beside Hermione and asked if she was okay. When she nodded he clenched his fists and threw himself into the battle alongside Ron.  
  
All the portraits turned and gawped at the scene with much interest and it seemed as though they were too wrapped up to go and find a member of staff. Hermione scrambled to her feet and looked on in horror as fists flew everywhere. Like the paintings she was far to wrapped up and traumatised to go and find help.  
  
The fight went on for a fair few minutes before Draco managed to knock Ron out. Hermione screamed in dismay as he head hit the floor with a crack. Fired by hate and revenge Harry threw a deadly punch at Draco but missed. At that move he threw himself at the black-haired boy and curled his strong fingers around his neck. Harry choked and spluttered as he face went from pink, to red to a deep purple, his glasses hanging off one ear. Suddenly realising that Draco meant to kill her best friend Hermione hurled herself onto his back, startling him, hence causing him to release Harry from his death grip.  
  
Taking this new opportunity The Boy Who Lived delivered a blow to Draco's jaw, sending him reeling around, ploughing into Hermione. The two fell to the floor, with Draco on top of Hermione, who straddled him from beneath. They lay there perfectly still and silent, shocked by what had just happened.  
  
He stared deep into her sparkling brown eyes. They glittered in the most striking manner as the pupils dilated to their fullest. He could feel her quaking and he looked down and saw her breast pulsing as was the vigour and rapidness of her heartbeat. Suddenly she shuddered and he looked back to her face and saw that she was crying, biting her full lip to try and stop it. Draco shifted his weight so that he was more comfortable, then reached a hand up and turned Hermione's face so that she was looking at him right in the eye.  
  
'What are you thinking? You thinking I'm gonna rape you?'  
  
Hermione stifled a sob and nodded. Draco laughed.  
  
'Don't be so stupid,' and he lifted himself up from her and turned around, coming face to face with a very angry looking Ron. Before Draco even had a chance to do anything he was punched hard in the face. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his nose as Harry kicked him in the head. Draco gazed with bleary eyes at Hermione before his world went black and he knew no more.  
  
AN: It's okay; he's not dead! Just very beaten up. Sorry this chapter wasn't up sooner, been having trouble with the computer. Chapter 5 is mostly mapped out but my river of inspiration is running dry. I reckon some reviews might boost it's flow again, let's say - 10 reviews? Don't worry if you think I'm not gonna continue if you don't review, it's just that the ideas aren't throwing themselves at me like they were a couple of days ago. 10 reviews, okay? 


	5. Three Good Samaritans

DISCLAIMER ~ I own nowt but the baby.  
  
THANKS TO ~ Draco is the man (god, you make me laugh. I'd just uploaded the 4th chapter and about 5 minutes later a review from you came up!) ~ Corn Dawg ~ Lux-soap (thanks for that great review!) ~ Weasel Girl, Misao ~ and anyone else who reviews chapter 4 after I upload this chapter.  
  
WARNING ~ a little bit of swearing in this one.  
  
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Chapter Five ~ Three Good Samaritans  
  
At first Draco could see nothing. All was black and silent. Maybe the world had ended. Maybe he was dead. If this was the afterlife then he could go and find his father. But no - Hell was riddled with demons and fire. This place was dead and empty. Like his soul. He felt cold upon the hard flagstones, and wished he could be in a soft bed. Suddenly out of the darkness he saw three shapes, like brightly coloured snakes weaving through the gloom towards him. He tried to scramble away but he couldn't.  
  
As they drew nearer he recognised them as scarves, all in the Gryffindor colours. They came closer and two wrapped themselves around his legs and the other around his shoulders. He must be dreaming. Without warning the scarves lifted him up gently and began to carry him away. Draco didn't know what to do or think; in truth he didn't really want to do or think, as he felt terrible. His head pounded and in his mouth he could taste the metallic tang of blood. His ribs ached and he found it hard to breath. He coughed and writhed slightly in the scarves' grip and the one supporting his shoulders brushed delicately over his face in a caring style. Draco never knew how friendly scarves could be.  
  
As he traveled through the shadows of his dream world many bizarre shapes loomed out and leered at him. Everything was contorted as though he was submerged in flowing water, making the odd shapes even worse. Sneering trolls and goblins fashioned from stone emerged out of nowhere, the shadows dancing dramatically on their ugly features. Copious amounts of other scarves drifted by, some in the colours of Ravenclaw, others in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, but the scarves that were striped in his colours hung around him, flitting back and forth as they moved on.  
  
Soon, or what seemed an eternity to Draco, a glowing radiance shimmered up ahead. It grew like the rising sun, gold and warm. The three scarves of Gryffindor took up to it, and held him there before it. With a great roaring whoosh a mighty wing swept out from the golden glow and came down. As it came closer it appeared to Draco that the scarf was covered in newspaper, and when even closer he saw that the feathers themselves were marked in such a way that they held a great likeness to newspaper. It read but one word all over: "Hospital". The word was printed on the wing in the many sizes and fonts used in actual newspapers.  
  
Draco's eyes widened. He certainly hoped that this was all a dream; he wasn't sure if he could live in a world of living scarves and newspaper wings. To his great surprise the wing descend swiftly, stretching out towards him. Great warm gusts of wind blew over him, as though a giant being was breathing on him. The scarves held him higher and allowed the wing to scoop him up. Draco felt drowsy and comfortable as he was pulled into the heated glow. Feeling safe he let himself drift into sleep, if that was possible inside a dream world, but then anything was possible in a dream world.  
  
The matron looked down upon the battered lad, and sighed.  
  
'You say he fell down the stairs?'  
  
Harry and Ron nodded vigourously; Hermione just stared into space.  
  
'He has two broken ribs, and by carrying him here I'm afraid you've worsened their state, though he probably would've stopped breathing if you hadn't brought him to me when you did. He also has a broken nose - severe bruising on his back and face - are you *sure* he fell down the stairs? Did you actually *see* him fall down the stairs?'  
  
The two Gryffindor boys stuttered in their replies but Hermione cut through them, loud and defined.  
  
'No. We didn't actually *see* him fall down the stairs, but when we found him he was sprawled across the bottom of the staircase, so we assumed that he had fallen.'  
  
The matron nodded slowly, Hermione saw the doubt and disbelief in her face and eyes. She glanced at Harry and Ron, seeing their own bruises.  
  
'What happened to you two then?'  
  
Ron blanched beneath his freckles. Harry quickly thought up a suitable answer.  
  
'Quidditch practice, er, teaching Ron to cope with the Bludgers. Hasn't quiet got the hang of those fast dodges. . .'  
  
The matron then glanced around at all the other faces, all the Slytherins. There was only half a dozen or so, crowded around the bed on which Draco Malfoy lay unconscious, all black and blue, smeared with blood here and there. She exhaled noisily before shooing them all away. Just as the Trio was heading out of the door Madame Pomfrey called out,  
  
'You three will wait here while I fetch Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape,' and with that she left the ward at a brisk pace, her heels clipping smartly.  
  
'What a fine load of dandy shit we've got ourselves into this time!' growled Ron, crossing his arms and sitting on a chair.  
  
'Why did we even bother to bring him?' Harry asked Hermione angrily. 'Why couldn't we have just left him?'  
  
Hermione scowled, goaded by their stupidity.  
  
'Because he would have died!'  
  
'Hurrah -'  
  
'Shut up Ron, you insensitive carrot-top!'  
  
Ron gasped in shock, Harry snorted. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the pair; they could be so tactless and dense at times.  
  
'You heard what the matron said! "He probably would've stopped breathing if you hadn't brought him to me when you did!" Are you two completely brainless or what?'  
  
'She's got a point you know, Ron,' piped up Harry, finally beginning to see things from Hermione's aspect.  
  
'So? One less Death Eater for everyone to worry about, isn't it?'  
  
The others shifted from foot to foot.  
  
'*He's* got a point you know, Hermione,' said Harry.  
  
'Oh, be quiet.' She turned to look upon Draco, laid out on the bed, oblivious to their argument over him. Within the nets of sleep he looked a cocktail of descriptions that would never suit a Death Eater. Innocent, harmless - and angelic in a way. He seemed young and yet old, in the way that he lay with his head turned on the pillow, his lips slightly parted and breathing deeply and rhythmically, then his pallid and sunken cheeks, now bruised and scratched made him look an age beyond his years. He was so skinny. He can't have eaten for days.  
  
Ron watched Hermione staring down on the seemingly lifeless form of Malfoy, but he couldn't read her face. Was it pity? Curiosity? Then a terrible thought hit him; was it adoration? Perhaps she was attracted to him, drawn to him in her compassion, only to become blind to what he really was and only seeing what was not there, a poor and helpless boy. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her extend a hand towards Malfoy. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Harry staring at her too. She reached out for his left sleeve and pulled it back to reveal the inside of his forearm. It bore nothing but a purple bruise. Hermione sighed.  
  
Just then footsteps entered the room, and all whipped around to see the three professors and the matron striding towards them. The heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin flanked the Headmaster, who glided placidly with his fingertips meeting in a knowing manner. McGonagall looked somewhat irked, though Snape was visibly livid.  
  
'WHAT HAVE YOU DONE POTTER!' he bellowed.  
  
'Now, now, Severus. . .' said Dumbledore.  
  
'YOU DID IT! YOU PUSHED HIM DOWN THOSE STAIRS!'  
  
He turned sharply to face the Headmaster.  
  
'Sir, I would see it fit if these three were expelled - or strictly punished! Strictly, I say!'  
  
'Severus Snape, calm yourself!' cried McGonnagal.  
  
'Yes!' chimed in Madame Pompfrey. 'We have a very sick patient on our hands!'  
  
'Exactly!' hissed the bat-like man. 'And the aggressors of this situation MUST be punished!' He looked upon the Trio, his eyes bulging, red blotches appearing all over his wan visage. 'THEY are the aggressors!'  
  
Dumbledore cast his glassy blue eyes over Harry, Hermione and Ron, thinking all the while. He looked hard at the two boys and their bruises, then at Hermione who did not seem to be injured in any sense at all.  
  
'Am I right in thinking,' he pondered out loud, cleaning his sickle spectacles on his beard, 'that he did not fall down the stairs at all, and that you two boys had a bit of a scuffle with young Mr Malfoy here?'  
  
There was no answer.  
  
'Am I right in thinking that Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger were having a bit of an argument, and you two thought that you would come to the rescue?'  
  
Three hearts of Gryffindor skipped a beat.  
  
'You see, I never keep secrets from myself. As you may or may not know there is a portrait of my younger self that was painted before I became Headmaster, right next to the Fat Lady. I told myself everything.'  
  
He chuckled lightly.  
  
'Everything that was said and done,' his eyes flitted momentarily towards Hermione, 'was reported to me literally seconds after it had happened.'  
  
The entire Trio cast their eyes to the ground in shame and dread.  
  
'However, after your acts as Three Good Samaritans you will be let off with the deduction of fifteen points each, including Mr Malfoy, and when he has regained consciousness all four of you will serve a week of detentions with these two Heads of Houses here. Mr Potter and Mr Weasley will serve with Professor McGonagall while Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger will serve with Professor Snape.'  
  
With a slight nod that bid them good day he turned gracefully and swept out with McGonnagal behind him. Snape glared spitefully at Harry, Hermione and Ron, his eyes mere pools of black venom.  
  
'Consider yourselves lucky!' he whispered dangerously. Then he too, left the Hospital Wing.  
  
The three let out a breath they had subconsciously been holding.  
  
'I'm so sorry Hermione!' said Ron, gazing at her with sympathy etched between his freckles.  
  
'For what?' she asked, surprised.  
  
'You have to serve a week of detentions with Snape and Malfoy!'  
  
'Oh,' she mumbled, turning away, wondering why her heart had started beating very fast. 'I'll cope.'  
  
She glanced out of the window and wondered why there were so many people outside. Then she realised.  
  
'Oh my god! They're burying Draco's dad and he's not there!'  
  
'What did you just say?' Ron questioned with an incredulous tone. 'Did you just call him *Draco*?'  
  
But Hermione wasn't listening. Se had pressed her face up against the cold glass and was staring at the solemn scene in the snow.  
  
'I can't believe they'd go ahead and have the funeral while Draco's not there. . .'  
  
Ron clasped his hands over his blushing ears in disbelief and desperation.  
  
'She's not saying it. She's not saying it -'  
  
'Not saying what, mate?' asked Harry as he took his place beside Hermione at the window. Ron sighed shakily. He stared longingly at the bright and beautiful girl, whose attention was on anything but him. Her figure drove him mad, he desired it but knew he could never have it. It was like having the power to turn Snape into a dung beetle and being forbidden from actually doing it. Sighing once again he joined his two best friends and watched as the funeral of Lucius Malfoy took place.  
  
They watched as the coffin was carried out, they watched as it was placed in the ground, they watched as Dumbledore and The Minister said a few words, and they watched as Narcissa Malfoy cried, cradling her newborn baby. At last it was over, and the tiny crowd disintegrated. The Trio retreated from the window to sit down on a bed. None of them had ever seen a proper funeral before, except Hermione but she had been a very young child. It left them with an odd feeling inside, not for the person who was buried of course, but it just felt odd, knowing that there was a dead man inside that box, and that he was now lying in the grounds of their school. Ron frowned.  
  
'Hermione?'  
  
'Mmmm?'  
  
'What's a Good Samaritan?'  
  
Hermione was just about to answer when they heard a small moan come from the bed next to them. Draco was stirring. Harry, Hermione and Ron all exchanged nervous glances. They set their eyes back on Draco, who was now almost awake. His eyes fluttered open gently, and the first thing he saw was Hermione.  
  
AN ~ Hmm. That was my last idea. Oh well, you'll all just have to wait longer while I think up some more. I spelt McGonagall right, didn't I? Just a question, should I do all the days of Hermione and Draco's detention in one chapter, or should I do one chapter per day of detention? Would that make it too long? I dunno, but I do know that they won't be doing the same things for detention every night. Reviews are good. Chapter 6 up ASAP. 


	6. Authors Note

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I have decided that I might not carry on with this story. I am fresh out of ideas; I have plucked every one of them from my mind. I can only see this story being forgotten and going down the drain. Either that or you'll have to wait a long time for my inspiration to replenish, because I have been writing about a chapter a day, and that's a lot for me. I really need to think about what might happen in later chapters. Either that or I will give up. Sorry for any disappointment that may be caused. Thanks for all the reviews, each and every single one of them made me smile with pride. I enjoyed writing my story while it lasted. I know there are a few out there like Lux-soap and Draco is the man who really want me to continue, but unless you can persuade me that it's worth continuing with I won't. Sorry.  
  
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	7. Authors Note You Convinced Me!

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Okay, so you convinced me. I'm actually really pleased that you guys out there want me to continue. I had no idea it was that good. I just want to thank everyone who told me to carry on ~  
  
~Draco is the man (you missed the exclamation mark out on 2 of those PLEASES!)  
  
~Lux-soap (don't cry, the chapter will be up soon!)  
  
~heyya (all I ever do is sit and breathe! And you won't have to wait a month!)  
  
~shelleekitten (you can look forward all you want coz I ain't no quitter! I was just unsure. . .)  
  
~Karina11 (unique is my middle name ^_ ~ )  
  
~Ice (beautiful use of swearing, I must say),  
  
~keladria (who has the ability to haunt),  
  
~Bulma Greenleaf (were you being sarcastic? Don't get offended but to me you sounded kinda pleased that I was going)  
  
~Mariah1 (Tihs? Or did you mean This? Ah, well. Thanks for the support anyway!)  
  
I appreciate your desperation for me to continue with the story so much! Especially Lux-soap who thinks my fanfic is the best one ever! YAY! I was really hyper today because I just got in touch with an old friend of mine who I've known since I was 6 and now I'm 14 and she's invited me to stay at her house in London for a couple of days! YAY YAY YAY!!!!!!!!  
  
So I got straight on the computer and began typing out chapter 6, which is called Detention Day One: The Granian Grooming, and anyone who owns a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them should know what I'm talking about. Just look up winged horses. . .  
  
Well I'd best be off. Chapters to write and stuff. There may be more romance in this chapter, I don't know, but there will definitely be some hot stuff (nothing sexual coz I told my friend at school about it and if I do anything too graphic she might spill and I'll get a bad reputation) by the end of the Detention Week. Gotta go. Thanks again!!!  
  
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	8. Rate My Ass

DISCLAIMER ~ You know what I'm gonna say.  
  
THANKS TO ~ Everyone who responded to those Authors Notes and Draco is the man who, I think, was the only one who reviewed Chapter 5, and Bulma Greenleaf, you don't have to say sorry! I was just being paranoid.  
  
WARNING ~ There will be nudies in this chapter. ^ _ ~ And Rachael Smith (if any of you guys are called Rachael Smith and we don't know each other personally, I'm not talking to you), Rachael, if you happen to get to a certain part of this chapter that goes on about Rodneys and stuff, PLEASE, I'm not a lemony oddball, I'm just giving the readers what they want. Okay? And don't tell Zara, Lucy or ANYONE!  
  
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Chapter Six ~ Rate My Ass  
  
Draco felt incredibly groggy. His eyes felt gritty with sleep; his muscles were limp. Upon all of this his ribs, back and head all seemed to have turned against him, and were giving him no mercy in the scales of agony. He turned his head and saw three people sitting on the bed next to him, all watching him. He only recognised Hermione first, then Potter and at last Weasley.  
  
'What are you all staring at?' he snapped.  
  
They swapped anxious looks as Hermione spoke up.  
  
'Um, Malfoy there's, uh, something you ought to know. . .'  
  
'I don't want to know anything right now; I'm dying. . .'  
  
'It's about the funeral.'  
  
He whipped his head around on the soft pillow, staring at them hard, trying his best not to look worried.  
  
'What about it?' he asked in a small voice.  
  
'They've - well, they've already had it. While you were unconscious.'  
  
Draco blanched, obviously stunned by the information. He blinked several times, staring at the high ceiling. There was an uneasy stillness and they all prayed for a distraction of some kind. At last their prayers were answered when the click of Madame Pomfrey's heels entered the ward.  
  
'Mr Malfoy! You're awake!'  
  
She disappeared into her office of medicines and returned with a bottle of Skelo-grow, which Harry recognised immediately, and another bottle of some thick violet substance. The matron set them down on the bedside table and uncapped the container of Skelo-grow. She poured a little into a glass and handed it to Draco.  
  
'There you go, sit up now, there's a good lad. . .'  
  
Draco propped himself up on the pillow and took the glass of medication from the woman's hand. He eyed the liquid with a look of disgust making Harry smirk.  
  
'It'll take instant effect,' explained Madame Pomfrey. 'You have broken two of your ribs but the cracks are very minor. It'll be over in ten minutes or so. Mr Potter over there had to wait a whole night for his arm to regrow it's bones! That stupid Lockhart. . .'  
  
Draco pursed his lips for a split second then downed the whole lot as if it was a shot of vodka. He gagged, thinking he was going to throw up and doubled over. He dropped the glass, which rolled off the bed and smashed into myriad shards on the floor. An inferno swept down his throat and into his stomach; he threw his head back on the pillow in pure torture, clutching his chest where his broken ribs were. He felt as though there were a million tiny creatures scurrying under his skin and weaving through his ribs. Fearing that was the case he lifted his shirt up to take a look at his chest. He yelled in shock. It certainly looked like there were lots of small animals inside him. His skin lifted and fell like tiny waves all over.  
  
Yelping in his fear, Draco tried to back away, which was a very stupid thing to do because he would only take his chest with him. Harry stared in shock, not remembering that bit at all. He must have slept right through it. Finally the worse subsided and only an ache was felt. Draco lay back on the pillow, gasping like a fish out of water.  
  
'Well, it's all over now,' said the matron. 'Only a slight bruising now - which is what this is for. . .'  
  
She picked up the bottle of the purple stuff and poured some out onto a dish. It was very thick and slow like syrup. When she thought she had enough, Madame Pomfrey told Draco to lift his shirt up. He stared at her as though her nose had just turned into a breast. He didn't want to do that in front of the Dream Team.  
  
'Well you lifted it up just then!' she argued.  
  
Scowling, he reluctantly pulled his shirt up to his chin. Hermione gazed in great interest. The girl had seen bare chests before; she had accidentally walked in on Harry and Ron getting changed many times in the past, and her short spell as Viktor Krum's girlfriend had proved quite educational. But without all the odd waves, and despite his famished look that had been acquired over the last couple of days Draco was beautifully toned. Hermione owed it to his years of Quidditch, and wondered if he practiced extra in order to beat Harry.  
  
The sight of the perfect pallid torso was suddenly obscured as Madame Pomfrey transferred the purple syrup from her fingers to the bruises. She rubbed it in slowly and Hermione saw Draco shudder. Maybe the syrup was cold; maybe his bruises were still painful. When the bruises on his chest were entirely covered the matron stepped back. Draco gasped as it sank into his pores, leaving his skin completely healed. Poppy Pomfrey nodded in satisfaction at her handiwork, then instructed her patient to roll over onto his chest.  
  
This Draco did, wincing slightly. When he had done so the Trio grimaced. The damage on his back was atrocious. The bruises spanned the boy's back and were deep purple and black. The matron repeated the procedure of massaging the violet matter into his back. Again it seeped into his skin, and the marks were gone. She did this one more time on his face.  
  
At last he was mended and he sat up, physically feeling a lot better than he had for some days now. He was just about to ask what was going to happen now when his stomach emitted a rather loud growl. Under all his stress and pain Draco had forgotten how hungry he was, and realised that he was ravenous.  
  
'Er, can I have something to eat? Please?' he asked.  
  
'Yes,' said the matron clearing away the bottles of medicine with magic, levitating them back to their places in her office. 'And when you have eaten you can begin your week of detention.'  
  
'Detention?'  
  
'Yes,' came the curt reply. 'Miss Granger will explain it fully while you are eating. I think Mr Potter and Mr Weasley can go and find Professor McGonagall this instant, now that Mr Malfoy has regained a conscious head.'  
  
Harry and Ron groaned and rolled their eyes in a very Kevin The Teenager- ish kind of way before stomping off to find the Head of Gryffindor. As they left, Madame Pomfrey pulled a small tea bell from her pocket and rang it. The voice of a house elf came from nowhere, and Hermione recognised it as Dobby.  
  
'What can Dobby do for Miss Madame Pomfrey?' he asked in his high, squeaky voice.  
  
'Please bring some food up to the Hospital Wing for Mr Malfoy.'  
  
Dobby squealed in fear.  
  
'Mr Malfoy?' he squeaked.  
  
'*Draco* Malfoy!' called Draco.  
  
'Oh, okay. What would Master Malfoy like for eating?'  
  
Draco thought for a second.  
  
'An english breakfast,' he said. 'You remember how I like it?'  
  
'Yes. Yes Dobby remembers how Master Malfoy likes his England breakfasts. . .'  
  
Madame Pomfrey returned the tea bell to its place in her pocket.  
  
'I will leave you for a while now,' she said. 'I need to go and see Professor Sprout about that Bubotuber pus. Got a third year boy with very bad acne. . .'  
  
And she trotted out, carrying the signature click of her high heels with her. The ward was silent until Dobby came in with a tray full of food. He scurried over with a look of absolute fear on his face and pushed the tray onto Draco's lap. Hermione leant over slightly to see what was there. Two each of hash browns, fried tomatoes and fried eggs, lots of fried mushrooms, baked beans, four halves of buttered toast and four sausages.  
  
'Don't you usually have bacon in english breakfasts as well?' asked Hermione as Draco picked his knife and fork up.  
  
'I'm a vegetarian.'  
  
Hermione frowned. Draco smiled.  
  
'Those are vegetarian sausages. They are, aren't they Dobby?'  
  
Dobby nodded frantically.  
  
'Yes master, of course master. . .'  
  
'Shut up Dobby,' said Draco as he took a surprisingly large bit out of his piece of toast. 'I'm not your master anymore. Dumbledore is. Any orange juice?'  
  
Dobby nodded again.  
  
'Yes sir -'  
  
He scurried off.  
  
'Dobby!' Draco called. 'A glass,' he signalled for two glasses down the side of the bed where Hermione couldn't see. Dobby stared in confusion for a moment, then his face broke out into an ugly grin.  
  
'Yes sir.' And he disappeared into the air with a loud crack. No more than twenty seconds later he reappeared with another loud crack and a jug of orange juice in one hand and two glasses in the other. He eagerly set them upon the bedside table and filled them up with astonishing speed and skill. He handed one glass to a staggered Hermione and the other to a grinning Draco. The brunette began to drink.  
  
'So, what's all this about detentions?'  
  
Hermione drained the last of the juice, allowing Dobby to pour her some more.  
  
'We, as in you and me, have to serve a week of detentions with Snape. Starting from when you regained consciousness. You've also lost fifteen points from Slytherin. Because of that fight in the corridor'  
  
Draco nodded as he took the information in. He was half way through his food.  
  
'Any idea what we'll be doing?'  
  
Hermione shook her head, sending her ringlets a-shiver. They spoke very little after that as Draco ate his first meal for several days. The food was going at an alarming rate. At last he was finished and he set his knife and fork together on his plate before Dobby put it back on the tray and returned to the kitchen. Draco stood up, completely unperturbed by the fact that he was standing in full view of Hermione Granger, top naked.  
  
'Did the matron leave a change of clothes for me?' he questioned, looking around.  
  
'Yes,' replied Hermione, gladly soaking up the sight of his naked chest again. Draco caught her staring at him out of the corner of his eye, and knew that she liked what she saw, but he kept his comments behind his teeth. He reached for the clothes on another bed then turned to Hermione.  
  
'Could you close your eyes? I want to get changed.'  
  
It took her several seconds to register what he had said before nodding and closing her eyes. She heard Draco turn his back to her and immediately opened her eyes again. She watched as he removed his trousers, revealing a fetching pair of black boxers of silk, covered in little pictures of dancing Purple Ronnie stickmen with no clothes on and words such as Beer! Sex! and Party! written all over. (AN: I've seen a bloke in those) Hermione raised an eyebrow in amusement. Her heart then skipped a beat when she saw him pull another pair of black silk boxers from the pile, these covered in little Snoopy pictures. (AN: I've seen a bloke in those, too) She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from gasping as he deftly slid his Purple Ronnie boxers off.  
  
She had, of course, seen Viktor Krum's ass before, and had read an article in her mother's magazine called Rate My Ass, which featured about three pages of bare backsides, but they was no comparison to what was in front of her right now. It was just so much nicer to look at, and it looked so much more grope-able. Then to Hermione's great disappointment Draco pulled the Snoopy boxers on, then his back shirt and trousers. He turned to face Hermione and she quickly closed her eyes again.  
  
'Okay,' he said. 'You can look now.'  
  
Hermione opened her brown eyes again and tried not to look so flushed. Draco didn't seem to notice as he donned his robe and cloak, then changed his black socks to a pair of green ones, striped in all the different shades. Draco slid his shoes on before they both stood up and headed out.  
  
'S'pose we'd best go and find Snape then,' Draco muttered darkly. Hermione nodded and side by side the pair left, seemingly oblivious to the fact that their arms brushed against each other as they walked.  
  
AN ~ Well it wasn't called Detention Day One: The Granian Grooming after all but that will be the next chapter. It was in this chapter but I decided it was too long. So how do you like? Is it good or bad? Only your reviews could ever tell me that *hint hint*. I will be away for a whole week starting this Sunday, so I'll do my best to get the next one or two chapters up. Okay? Detention Day One up ASAP. 


	9. The King and Queen

DISCLAIMER ~ Blah blah blah. You can translate that can't you?  
  
THANKS TO ~ Klee, Draco is the man, Bulma Greenleaf and Lux-soap.  
  
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Chapter Seven ~ The King and Queen  
  
The dungeons reeked of boredom and misery, the walls dripped and shone in the cold light. The various ghosts of Slytherin drifted hither and thither, creating the perfect finishing touch to the eerie atmosphere. Draco and Hermione scurried along, their cloaks drawn close to keep out the chill. They walked shoulder to shoulder, literally, and did not speak, for the gloomy aura seemed to suck out any want for conversation.  
  
At last the odd pair reached their place of destination, and Draco extended his pale arm, rapped his knuckles on the large door, then stood back beside Hermione, both waiting for the response.  
  
'Come in,' came the jaded voice of Severus Snape.  
  
Hermione pushed open the door and stepped into the dungeon, with Draco on her heels.  
  
'Ah, Mr Malfoy,' called the potions master in his dawdling and baleful tone. 'So good to see you up and about again.' He turned to Hermione. 'Not so good to see *you* again.'  
  
Hermione dropped her eyes to the floor, a slight flush in her cheeks.  
  
'I suppose you are both here for your detentions.'  
  
The professor left his place at the stately desk in the shadowy corner of the room and slinked towards Draco and Hermione.  
  
'For the rest of your detentions,' he began, 'you will report to me here every night until. . . next Thursday, which will be -' an evil grin spread across his wan face '- New Year's Day. I shall have to organise something special for you two.'  
  
He grinned again.  
  
'Follow me.'  
  
He swept out of the dungeon and led the two students through Hogwarts and out onto the grounds. Draco kept swivelling his head about, as though he was looking for someone. Hermione knew what he was looking for. Professor Snape also seemed to notice and held his silence. The tall bat-like man began to stride towards the forest, and for a second Hermione thought he was going to take them in there, but she was wrong. He followed the perimeter all the way round until it swung out of the sight of the castle. All that could be seen now were the peaks of the loftiest towers. Draco saw the wink of a telescope in the tallest window of the astronomy tower.  
  
Ahead of the small group were a few small hills, though they were big enough to hide whatever could be standing on the other side. They climbed one of these hills. As they crested the brow Hermione let out a small gasp. Within the dell of the hills were scores upon scores of winged horses. Some were dazzling white, others less so, and some were dappled grey. All of them were grazing. Professor Snape sneered at the awed expressions of the boy and girl.  
  
'This is the school's private flock of Granians. There are very docile, so they will not harm you. However you may notice that they are all particularly muddy, as they have just returned from a mass Disillusionment Charming at the Ministry of Magic. Mr Lovegood, who was the only School Governor who could be bothered enough to escort them to and from the Ministry, reported that the flock decided to stop off and have a rest in a swamp somewhere. Since they only returned in the early hours of this morning no one has groomed them, and then I decided that you two might like to the grooming. Muggle style.'  
  
Snape smiled nastily.  
  
'There are one hundred and eighty-two Granians. Here are the things you will need.'  
  
Draco and Hermione followed Snape's hand with their eyes as he reached into his pocket to fetch his wand, gave it a small flick and two boxes full of the grooming kit appeared. He smiled his nasty smile once more and then strode off.  
  
'I can groom about four horses in one morning without getting bored,' said Draco. 'But one hundred and eighty-two!'  
  
He picked up one of the boxes and stepped down the gentle slope of the hill towards a very big, white stallion. He looked up as he saw the blonde boy heading his way. He blinked and turned back to his grazing. Hermione picked up the other box and followed Draco. When she had reached Draco and the horse she rested the box on the ground and looked up at the Slytherin.  
  
'What do I do now? I've never done this before.'  
  
'They're *really* muddy,' Draco muttered. 'We'll never be able to get this mud off just with the dandy brush. . .'  
  
'The what?'  
  
'The dandy brush. It's a coarse brush used to remove dried mud but these guys are caked in the stuff. We need water to get rid of this mud.'  
  
His eyes grew wide and an odd expression overcame his face.  
  
'I've just had an idea.'  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. She was getting impatient.  
  
'And what's that then?'  
  
'We need to find the leader of the flock, take him to the lake, which means the rest will follow, and that way we can wash them down.'  
  
Hermione was not quite as well versed on the subject of equine mammals so she just nodded and scanned the large flock.  
  
'Could it be this one?' she suggested, looking at the Granian standing right next to them.  
  
'Nah,' replied Draco. 'He's too young.'  
  
Draco cast his eyes carefully over the rest of the winged horses. He spotted another large stallion; even larger and whiter than the one they were standing by, and fixed his eyes on him. He noted how it kept looking up every now and then, glancing at the flock and then bending his neck to eat again.  
  
'That's the one,' he said, pointing to it, and he lifted his box and headed away. Hermione followed with her own box in her arms.  
  
When they reached the leader they set their things down and crept cautiously up to him. He really didn't seem to be bothered about the two humans coming towards him. He ripped up some more grass and chewed it. Eventually they reached him and he just had to look at them. Humans were so odd. The male pulled something out of a box.  
  
Oh no! he thought. It's a bloody head collar! Here we go again. . .  
  
Draco slipped the black head collar over the silvery white head of the leader and tightened the straps. The boy smiled as his pale eyes trailed over the Granian stallion. He just couldn't understand why the others were blind to the beauty of horses. It's was all in the way they moved so gracefully, the way their powerful muscles contracted and retracted under the skin as they worked, the sight of the pattern in which their legs fell as they ran. They were beautiful and that's all there was to be said.  
  
'Draco?'  
  
'Hm?'  
  
'Are you going to take it to the lake or what?'  
  
'Yeah. Yeah, I'm going now. I just have to do this. . .'  
  
Draco gazed into the watery black eyes of the horse, reaching within. It backed up but Draco had him on a lead, and stepped forward as the horse stepped back. After a couple of minutes of this the naturally passive creature realised it wasn't going to get rid of it's antagonist and fell still. Again Draco stared deep into it's eyes again, then turned right away. The Granian looked up, wondering why the human's attention had suddenly waned, and he reached out with his nose and nudged the boy's shoulder. Draco grinned.  
  
'Success!' he cried as he turned back to stroke the horse. Hermione looked confused.  
  
'Will he come to the lake with us now?'  
  
Draco glanced over at the Gryffindor, her springy hair fluttering in the breeze. Her oak-brown eyes burnt strongly into his own sky-blue eyes.  
  
'Yes,' he replied breathlessly.  
  
With one deft move he leapt up onto the horse's back and gripped the flowing mane. Hermione stared, apparently impressed. Draco reached his hand out, offering to help her mount. She took the offer then faltered, pulled her wand out, skilfully shrunk the boxes with a spell Draco had not heard before, put them in her pocket and then she took the boy's hand. His skin was smooth and warm as his fingers wrapped around her hand. She felt and electric rush through her entire body as he pulled her up. She sat astride him from behind. Draco went to pull his hand away but Hermione held on.  
  
'Your hands are really small!' she exclaimed in amused wonder as she gazed at them.  
  
'So? I like having small hands.'  
  
'And your fingers are really short!'  
  
'Hey!' he growled, turning to see Hermione's face. 'No dissing of the dinky digits. Okay?'  
  
Hermione snorted.  
  
'Whatever.'  
  
At last they released one another from their grips. Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco's waist. A solid bolt of bliss struck him, sending him a- tingling and shivering all over. Trying to shake it off, he nudged the Granian's sides with his heels. It set away at a leisurely canter, not even bothering to fly to wherever they may be going.  
  
Hermione used to ride horses long before she came to Hogwarts, and had been in a fairly advanced class, so of course she had cantered and galloped and jumped all that before, but it was such a long time ago. She was glad to have someone to hold onto. They came to the top of the hill and stopped. The rest of the flock had halted in their grazing, and all eyes were on their herder. Draco was satisfied and gave the horse a sharp kick and it spread it's mighty wings and leapt onto the air.  
  
Startled by the sudden movement Hermione grasped harder onto Draco, who smiled faintly with pleasure. The leader of the Granians swooped ever higher into the atmosphere, and below came the rhythmical whooshing beat of many grey and white wings as the vast flock trailed their ruler, willing to go where he goes, to do as he does and be beside him in the face of what jeopardy that may oppose them.  
  
Far beneath was the sight of a shining spot on the ground, like a huge stain of molten silver upon the land. It shimmered majestically in the midday sun, looking up at the castle, known to the magical folk as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Numerous students dotted the grounds, some basking in the winter rays, a few just milling about here and there, the others throwing snowballs at each other. Every face turned to the heavens as the Granians soared overhead, a mystifying sight that most would never dare to dream of. Near two hundred horses upon the wing, diving through the air, it was bound to shock some people.  
  
Professor Dumbledore stood at the lapping edges of the lake, watching as the unusually warm sun of winter melted the very last dregs of ice upon the surface. He heard a distant braying, and turned his bearded face aloft. His eyes widened as the privet Hogwarts flock of Granians dived down and skimmed the far end of the lake, coming his way head on. They flew forever closer to the surface at a rapid speed, yet they only ever disturbed the water with their flapping wings. Dumbledore smiled as he saw the two students atop the brawny leader.  
  
At last the horses of ashy hues lighted the water, the glowing spray of landing spewing up either side of each creature. The spectacle was truly mystical and priceless, a type of magic beyond the hands of witches and wizards. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy rode upon the handsome leader named Brelarnian like a king and queen. And that they did look with the sun falling on their flowing hair and all about, upon the dazzling mane of Brelarnian, radiating away in bright and regal gold, making them appear to glow.  
  
Dumbledore smiled wider and the sparkle of the drops of water splashing up caught his eye and made them twinkle even more than they already did. The laughter of the boy and girl cut clearly over the sound of the water and with one more serene smile Dumbledore turned away and cut through the crowd of students who had gathered behind him, all gawping at the euphoric happenings on the water. Draco's mirth rang out louder than it had ever done during his entire existence. Perhaps this week of detentions was not going to be as bad as he had first anticipated.  
  
AN ~ Wow, chapter 7. Hope you like it. There will be no more chapters until 1st of September coz that's when I get back from my holiday. So review quick coz I wanna read them before I go! Chapter 8 up ASAP. 


	10. Fish Tails

DISCLAIMER ~ You know the score, but I own the eater of the waterweed. You'll see what I mean.  
  
THANKS TO ~ Lux-soap, Bulma Greenleaf and Keladria.  
  
WARNING ~ Lots of underwater frolics. ^ _ ~  
  
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Chapter Eight ~ Fish Tails  
  
Detention Day Two had come with the pale gold dawn peering over the horizon, making the shadows long and dark. On command of Professor Snape, as punishment for making a spectacle of themselves the day before, Draco and Hermione turned up for their detention at six of the clock in the morning, right on time. The Head of Slytherin stood at the edge of the lake, and to the students' surprise Professor McGonnagal was with him. They turned their heads at the sound of the crunching snow.  
  
'Good morning,' said Snape in a sickeningly cheery tone, smiling at the dark circles beneath their eyes. 'Since you seem to like the lake so much I have organised another *enjoyable* detention for you today. Stand over there.'  
  
Snape pointed to the shallows of the lake. Draco and Hermione didn't move.  
  
'Go on, then!' cried McGonnagal in irritation. She was not a morning person.  
  
They reluctantly stepped into the water, shivering as the icy liquid filled their shoes and soaked their socks.  
  
'Now,' said Snape, 'There is a very rare type of waterweed that grows at the bottom of the Hogwarts lake -'  
  
Hermione gasped.  
  
'You're not going to -'  
  
Professor Snape silenced her with a glare.  
  
'I have not finished, Miss Granger,' he said stiffly. 'As I was saying - this particular waterweed is the only thing that a Scottish Water Sphinx will eat.'  
  
'A what?' said Draco.  
  
'A Scottish Water Sphinx, Mr Malfoy,' McGonnagal said. 'It is a beast that has very recently been discovered in our very own Forbidden Forest by Hagrid.'  
  
Hermione smiled.  
  
'The Scottish Water Sphinx will only eat this rare waterweed and bowtruckles, but bowtruckes are needed to guard wand-wood trees so we have not been feeding him with those. We have captured him as Hagrid is very eager to display him in his lessons. We have, however, run out of the waterweed.'  
  
Draco and Hermione exchanged a nervous glance. Snape smiled and continued.  
  
'And we want *you* to get some of it.'  
  
This caused an immediate uproar and three gold and silver firecrackers from Snape's wand could only silence it.  
  
'SILENCE!' He bellowed. 'We are not going to send you down there with the head-bubble charm or gillyweed. . . Professor McGonnagal would like to try a new transfiguration charm on you.'  
  
'And what is that new transfiguration charm?' asked Draco.  
  
'You will see in a minute.'  
  
Shaking with anxiety and cold, Hermione and Draco watched and listened as McGonnagal performed the new charm on them. Suddenly Draco's legs felt odd, as though he had severe pins and needles. Then to his horror he felt that he could no longer stand up and collapsed into the water beside Hermione, who had already collapsed. Draco watched in terror as his legs fused together, a loud rip was heard as his trousers split and he yelled in alarm as he saw that his legs were not covered with skin but glittering black scales, and instead of two feet he had one fish tail. He was no longer a wizard. He was a merwizard.  
  
'That's good!' cried McGonnagal in glee. 'What excellent results!'  
  
Draco looked over his new tail. The scales were black like ink and they sparkled as though someone had sprinkled silver glitter all over them. He glanced at Hermione's tail. It was deep violet and sparkled the same way that his did. He also noticed that she had gills at her neck, though they were closed and barely noticeable, fro she was on land and breathed through her nose. He put his fingers to his own neck and felt soft ridges there.  
  
'Well,' said Snape. 'Off you go. You can't miss the waterweed; it's bright orange and shaped like oak leaves.'  
  
And the two professors turned and crunched over the snow back to the castle. Hermione looked at Draco.  
  
'Shall we go?'  
  
'I suppose so. . .'  
  
He ripped off the tattered remains of his trousers and boxers (black silk with little snitches all over) and Hermione did the same, blushing as she removed the lacy red thong that she had been wearing. Draco smirked. Now the two only wore their school shirts, and surprisingly enough the bitter breeze did not seem to affect them. On a glance that signalled the other was ready to go, Draco and Hermione slid smoothly into the water.  
  
No sooner had they entered the water it was an unspoken but mutual agreement that the upper pieces of clothing were incredibly aggravating, since clothes were not a mermish custom. Writhing with difficulty the merwizard and the merwitch unbuttoned their shirts, surfaced and discarded the sopping garments upon the pile of their other clothes. Draco was now naked, though it was not as taboo since he had a tail instead of legs. Hermione, through decency and dignity, had remained within her bra, and Draco smiled inwardly to see it did not co-ordinate with her thongs, as it was lacy lilac, not lacy red.  
  
'So you don't -'  
  
But he stopped in mid sentence and clutched his throat, and Hermione stared at him through the greenish murk of the water with a shocked expression on her face. He had understood what he had said, as was the case with Hermione, but what was so shocking was the fact that they *had* understood the half-finished sentence, for it was not English that had passed Draco's lips, but a dolphin like jitter.  
  
'What were you going to say?' Hermione asked slowly, listening to her new voice like a child does when they shout in an echoey room.  
  
'I was just going to point out that you don't co-ordinate your underwear.'  
  
Even in the cold water Hermione blushed, and even through the watery shards of sunlight that impaired Draco's view he saw her blush. He swam to her, gambolling gracefully and experimentally. He flitted around her teasingly then darted away into the blue-green dark. Hermione was left all by herself; the unknown gaped ominously at her all around. Above was the distorted glare of the morning sun, below and on her every side was a deep nothingness.  
  
A pair of eyes latched onto their prey. It was a merperson, bobbing foolishly a couple of metres beneath the surface. It was alone, silhouetted against the sunlight that streamed forth through the water. It was vulnerable, a worthy piece of flesh to attack. The hunter felt the deep distress and panic radiating through the depths. From below and behind was the most effective form of ambush, and an effective ambush this would be.  
  
Hermione was severely distressed now, and she called for Draco, sounding like the majestic Blue Wale. There was no answer. She thrashed around casting her glance here, there and everywhere but Draco was not to be seen. Then something snatched her tail from below and she screamed her whalish scream, she lashed out with her strong and delivered a heavy blow to her attacker. She reached her arms down to detach the other's grip from her but an extremely powerful pair of hands seized her wrists, stopping her, and she found herself staring into a pair of beautiful azure eyes.  
  
'YOU!' She shrieked. 'I HATE YOU!'  
  
Draco Malfoy released Hermione, snickering and darting out of the way of the merwitch's angry swipes.  
  
'You're so horrible!' she choked, shaking with anger and shock. 'You really scared me!'  
  
Draco just smiled and whirled around her in circles.  
  
'I think we'd best go and get this rare waterweed,' he said, still chuckling.  
  
'Well don't go off and leave me again!'  
  
Draco grinned and turned to look at her. His smirk fell as he saw the terrified glint in her eye and the obvious way her hands shook. Her face was a perfect portrait of hurt and fear. The phantom of a smile swept over his angular features. He reached out and took her quaking hand before swimming away, down to the bottom of the lake, down to where the waterweed grew. He glanced back at Hermione. The fading light cast an ethereal dapple over her pale back and swaying hair.  
  
The merwizard proved his lack of self-discipline by not being able to avert his gaze from her ample bust. She was not a stick insect like all those horrible models who looked as though would drop dead because they were so disgustingly scraggy. She was buxom and rosy cheeked, as all women should be, and Draco longed to feel her embrace again. On an impulse, probably driven by his innate instinct to find a mate, he reached out, placed a hand on her voluptuous hip and slowly drew it up over the side of her waist, flexing his fingers as though playing a piano. Her flesh yielded like warm dough, or a soft pillow, and Draco growled in pleasure, placing his other hand on the other side of her body, pulling her closer through the shadowy green water.  
  
Hermione was in shock, thoroughly perplexed by the clash of his earlier banter and his now gentle inspection of her body. She raised her arms and placed them on Draco's shoulders, trying to push him away. She halted when she found that he was a lot less than willing to leave her alone, and he only responded by holding her firmer than before and pulling there aquatic bodies into full contact.  
  
The merwitch shuddered as she felt the other's hand sneaking up her spine and resting on the fastening of her bra. With one fleet and skilful fiddle of his fingers Draco had unhooked the bra and it floated freely, with only her shoulders denying its escape.  
  
'What are you doing?' cried Hermione.  
  
Draco sneered.  
  
'You've seen my ass, now I'm making the odds even.'  
  
Hermione tried to hide her grin with a frown, making Draco beam with amusement. He pulled the skimpy garment off her shoulders and they both watched as it floated down into the deep. Draco then had a sudden idea and he dived down underneath the bra. He expertly blew two large bubbles that floated up into the cups. Hermione laughed loudly as her bra drifted past her on towards the surface of the lake, looking as though it was filled with two invisible breasts.  
  
Draco swam back up to her and pulled her into his arms, quaking in his sudden desire when he felt her hard nipples pressing into his chest. He crushed their bodies close together, as close as close can be, and wrapped his strong arms around her. Deciding that nothing could possible go wrong in this situation, (and she was right), Hermione folded her own arms around Draco and purred as he buried his face into the crook of her neck, tickling her. She reacted by doing the same to him, causing him to purr, or growl, as it seemed.  
  
He turned his attention away from her neck and brushed his open lips across her cheek. He felt her tense as he did so, and he felt her heartbeat thumping against him as he repeated the gesture to her full lips. Then to Draco's utmost surprise she took advantage of him and pressed her mouth to his, rudely invading his tongue's personal space with her own tongue. They made the slow beginnings of the Tango of the Tongue, gradually picking up speed as their yearning increased.  
  
Draco lightly rubbed his fingers in circles on the small of Hermione's back, feeling pleased as she shuddered at this. Hermione ran her fingers through Draco's hair, opening her eyes to watch it waver idly in the still waters. They spiralled slowly into the depths; both still ensnared within the others arms. They kissed passionately until they hit the faraway floor of the lake, where Draco laid upon Hermione as she sank into a secure bed of reeds and weeds.  
  
Eventually the kiss was broken, and both felt as though they had been kissing for nigh on three quarters of an hour, for indeed they had been, and Draco cast his craving eyes over Hermione's face then to the watery plants beneath her. He ripped up a handful of them and waved them in the merwitch's face. She laughed. They were bright orange and shaped like oak leaves. Lady Luck was smiling on them that day but luck's a lady and a lady is allowed to changer her mind.  
  
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AN ~ Whew. Glad that's finished. I swear I've heard that last sentence somewhere before, I just don't know where. Ah well, if you know then I wouldn't mind if you told me. Sorry it took so long, but I hope you liked it. I just got back from holiday and I'm feeling a bit gloomy coz I have to go back to school this Friday. Don't ask me why it's a Friday, I think it's stupid too. Anyway, chapter 9 up ASAP. 


	11. The Fissures of Madness

DISCLAIMER ~ Try as I might none of these characters belong to me. Except the ones that I invent.  
  
THANKS TO ~ Lux-soap who gives me the will to carry on writing, Pyrope who has written the longest review that I have ever received (what's your e- mail address?), Draco is the man who is sometimes FredandGeorge4Eva, Bulma Greenleaf who makes me laugh and alyshia who might die if I don't upload anymore chapters.  
  
NOTE ~ This is not a detention day, it takes place during the night before the next detention day. This is when the story starts getting really dark and meaningful again. I hope. (How Draco and Hermione got out of the lake will be explained in later chapters).  
  
EXTRA NOTE ~ The way many of the sentences and paragraphs have been shaped throughout this fanfic are from my other story at home. Some are even identical in their wording. I have known some fanfic writers to use certain sentences and quotes from other fanfic writer's works. Since I am working very hard on my proper story, and through good connections that I have I am someday hoping to be published, if not renowned, I would like it very much if you did not use exact phrases etc. from this particular fanfic. Thank you!  
  
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Chapter Nine ~ The Fissures of Madness  
  
The sharp moonlight cleaved the darkness, stabbing all manner of things with her silver blades. She slashed the face of a sleeping boy, who lay upon a bed in a ward. He looked none but a wraith with his features blurred by the hoary light, his usually distinguished features blending, giving him a kind of beauty that surpassed mortals. He rolled over and embraced his soft pillow, dreaming dreams that would be forever locked within the enigmatic lattice of his mind.  
  
That day had been good, wonderful in fact. He had expressed and received a kind of desire that he never thought could be possible of him. Though his mother was still cold and his sister too young to understand naught but the need for food and attention. Draco rubbed his face into the velvety folds of his pillow as his dreams reminisced his earlier activities. Things were really beginning to look up after the recent tragedy.  
  
Outside the ornately carved door of the Hospital Wing there swirled a being full of wrath and hatred. It's smoky curls ebbed in the faint light provided by the bright moonlight that crept beneath the large door. With a growl it passed into the room by the skill and silence of an assassin.  
  
As it swept into the room the shards of light sliced across it's body, and where those shards sliced it appeared invisible, and where it was in darkness it was visible to all who may look upon it. The ward was empty, save a woman and her two children, one was a baby, held in her arms as she slept, the other was an adolescent boy, sleeping no more than five beds away from her. The chill in the relationship between the boy and woman radiated potently, like the chill of winter outside as one stood in the doorway of their warm home. It grinned evilly and as slow as a lazy breeze it slithered towards the boy.  
  
As it approached it paused as the young blonde rolled over onto his back, murmuring something about waterweed. Of course the thing knew what the boy meant; ever since Christmas Eve it had been closely monitoring his actions. At last the misty person reached the side of the bed and looked down upon the sleeping lad. If it was alive it's heart would burst from confusion, not being able to decide whether it should fill with the hate of the betrayed or the love of one who could never receive love again. Shining brightly in all it's mixed emotions, the haze of it's form churning madly, it reached out to caress the face of Draco Malfoy. Alas, he was but a spectre, a cloudy projection of his former living self, and his hand passed right through the cheek of his son.  
  
Draco woke with a jolt and Lucius rendered himself invisible. The other sat up shakily, his forehead shining with the sweat of a nightmare, and he lifted his fingers to his cheek, which was numb with cold. His dreams had been pleasant all night, he had dreamt of Hermione and mermaids, Granians and clouds, kisses and orange waterweed, but his sleepy visions had been paid a visit by the mares of night. All that had been in his dreams merged into a chaotic mess before disintegrating into a vacant blackness. And then Lucius was there. He drifted out of the dark, menacing yet sad.  
  
'Father,' Draco had whispered, as he had stretched out his hand.  
  
Lucius had not replied, but glared frostily at his son. He wanted to hold Draco, however his disappointment and rage held him back, and had drifted away as Draco had stepped forward. Lucius felt miserable as he saw the pained look upon his son's face when he had realised he could never be close to his father again. He hated yet loved the boy, and he soared over and stood before him. Draco lunged and wrapped his arms around his father, who exploded into myriad tiny flecks of mist before reappearing outside of Draco's embrace. He lifted his hand and struck his son across the face as hard as he could.  
  
That was when he woke up.  
  
Draco felt distraught and disorientated. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, staggering slightly. He had requested permission to sleep in the Hospital Wing with his mother and that permission had been granted. His mother, on the other hand, was still angry with Draco, and refused to speak to him and did not let him hold or see Rosace. He shuddered. It was freezing inside the ward, and his breath was to be seen in great foggy gusts. He looked over at his mother and sister, and their breath was visible too.  
  
He walked to their bed and looked upon his sleeping sister, so small and delicate, so vulnerable and naïve in her raw youth. He smiled faintly and softly stroked her smooth cheek. She yawned in her sleep, displaying two rows of toothless gums. Again Draco smiled and left at the call of nature.  
  
As he left Lucius became visible again at the side of his wife's bed. He checked with his silver eyes to see if Draco was completely gone, and then leant over to see his new daughter. She was exceptional, as far as babies went. Extra cute and very quiet, two magnificent qualities that everyone wants their baby to have. She would grow up to become a fine Malfoy; providing that Narcissa would raise her properly, and that she did not come into much contact with her brother. He longed to embrace the child, if not just to touch her, but after his recent attempt on Draco he decided that might not be a very good idea.  
  
Lucius then gazed at his wife. She was perfect in everyway; she was loyal, loving and flawlessly buxom. An especially important value that proper pureblood women should have. Lucius Malfoy was *not* raised to breed with stick insects, therefore Narcissa Black was the ideal match in his eyes. (AN: She's supposed to be skinny in the books but what the heck). Lucius smiled, or smirked. He had never quite got the hang of smiling. He was stuck on smirking. Even after his death she was still faithful to him and the Death Eater beliefs. He silently praised the woman for her verbal attack on Draco when she had found out about the incident in the Owlry.  
  
Hermione Granger.  
  
A whore if ever he knew one. Mud ran through her veins, and a dirty film of grime layered her body. A mudblood whore. The worst kind of whore. She prayed upon the woeful, luring them during their vulnerable state of grief. He had seen them in the lake, and had been furious about it all day afterwards. As soon as he saw that first kiss he roared in rage and returned to his grave to rest in his body, the only comfortable place a ghost could ever be, and he fumed. The night was fully mature before he left to examine his son's activities some more.  
  
At the sound of a flushing toilet Lucius became invisible once again. Draco entered the main area of the ward, rubbing his eyes and yawning. The ghost went to his son's bed, and tensed as Draco stopped right beside him to scratch a place on his back that he could not quite reach. He bent his head back and there it was on the smooth flesh of his neck, a great purple love- bite. Knowing that gills would prevent hickeys Lucius stared at his boy with pure loathing painted thickly over his face. It had happened after the lake incident, when he thought that it was over. His son *meant* to share passion with this grimy mudblood. Lucius snarled. Perhaps his son wanted to do this!  
  
'YOU REVOLTING DISGRACE!' he bellowed, becoming visible again, soaring into the dark above so that he could be clearly seen. Draco stared in shock and horror at the sight of the silvery phantom among the rafters overhead. The dead Malfoy emitted a great dazzling light, his cloak fluttering wildly in his terrible wrath. His eyes became black like coals within the white glow.  
  
'A MUDBLOOD IS NOT WORTHY OF YOUR PURITY! YET YOU CARESS HER LIKE THE QUEEN OF PUREBLOODS!'  
  
Draco stumbled backwards in fright and landed upon the cold floor.  
  
'YOU SHOULD BE DISPOSED OF LIKE THE DIRT THAT YOU HAVE BECOME! I WILL DELIVER YOU INTO THE FISSURES OF MADDNESS AND YOU WILL DESPAIR AND DIE!'  
  
With a terrible screech akin to the cry of an eagle that rose steadily to its finishing note, Lucius Malfoy disappeared into the darkness among an explosion of luminosity. Draco was left quaking for all he was worth, goose pimples rising all over his skin. He sat up slowly and peered over at Narcissa and Rosace. They were both fast asleep. He returned to his bed with much difficulty, exceedingly traumatised by the confrontation. He wondered how long his father had been watching him after he had died, and he wondered how on earth a ghost could deliver him into the Fissures of Madness. He clambered into the bed and slivered deep into the covers, drawing them tightly around his pale body. Perhaps, after all, things weren't beginning to look up after the recent tragedy.  
  
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AN ~ YAY! Chapter nine! I hope you like it. It's a little shorter than the rest. I roughly know how the story is going to end, but that is still quite a while off yet. Reviews are very tasty and low in fat and I am VERY hungry. *hint hint*. Chapter ten up ASAP. 


	12. The Aloe Vera Man

DISCLAIMER ~ Not mine. Dammit.  
  
THANKS TO ~ Lux-soap, Bulma Greenleaf, pyrope and bombshell.  
  
NOTE ~ Again this is not a detention day. I am delaying detention days because there is explaining to do.  
  
EXTRA NOTE ~ I am sorry that I have taken so long to update, my mind has been busy with my other story and my first LOTR fic, which I will start writing when My Blazing Love For You is done. I'll post details about that with the last chapter, just in case you're interested.  
  
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Chapter Ten ~ The Aloe Vera Man  
  
Hermione lay asleep in her large, four-poster bed. The dark spiralled oak of the posts made a beautiful contrast with the deep crimson of the thick, embroidered curtains. Bright golden sunlight streamed in through a tiny crack where she had not pulled the curtains close enough together. This light cut across her face, and she woke up.  
  
She had not dreamt that night; she never did when she went to her bed feeling so tired that she was almost asleep before she had even climbed in. The day before had been highly eventful. She had got up at the crack of dawn to discover that she had to dive to the bottom of the lake with Draco Malfoy, in the form of a mermaid. Then she had, to her surprise and wonder, shared a dish of piping hot passion with the Slytherin, and both had licked the plate until it was spotless. She never would have believed that Draco Malfoy could ever display that kind of tenderness and fiery desire at the same time. And on top of all of that she had completed a considerable amount of homework before going to bed.  
  
The morning brought Hermione bliss. She sat up, stretching like a cat, the warm and heavy covers slipping off her. She looked at her watch, which she had forgotten to take off. Ten thirty. Bloody hell. She slowly pulled back the curtains; the glorious sun enveloped her in warmth through the large window. Hermione gazed about. All of her roommates had gone to breakfast, and she was glad. She looked down at herself.  
  
'Thongs,' she muttered, 'Pyjamas. Same thing.'  
  
She clambered with some difficulty out of her bed and strode to her wardrobe to fetch her dressing gown. She pulled open the carved door and halted as she saw herself in the tall mirror in the door. She smiled at the hickey on her neck and leant over to her side and huffed.  
  
'More rolls than a bakery. What the hell does that boy like about my body?'  
  
Dismissing her doubts Hermione pulled on her dressing gown. It was made of black silk and reached to the floor. (AN: I have one of those! But it's white.) She closed the door after collecting a large fluffy bath sheet and headed to the bathroom.  
  
When inside, Hermione placed an unbreakable locking charm on the door before ridding herself of the few garments that she wore. Within the bathroom there was another door, leading into a larger room with one of those big prefects' baths. After a few fights due to house rivalry the teachers had decided it would be best if the houses had their own prefects bathrooms within the confines of the common rooms. There was a different boys' bathroom and girls' bathrooms for the fifth, sixth and seventh years. Hermione was the only female prefect of the Gryffindor sixth years so she had this huge, circular bath all to herself.  
  
Steeping into the empty bath, which was only about five feet deep at the edges, Hermione turned on all of the taps around the edges. Soon enough it was filled to the brim with a wide variety of bubbles and scents. Hermione swam to the centre of the bath, where it was the deepest, and clambered up onto her favourite type of bubbles, the really stiff ones that she could sit on, with the strong smell of freshly cut roses. She climbed onto them and laid back, staring at the ceiling that had been classically painted like the sky with cupids, angels and winged horses free-wheeling among the clouds. Then Hermione quickly remembered to cover her vitals up with bubbles; it was known that some boys like to fly up to the windows on their broomsticks and watch the girls bathing and showering.  
  
When she had efficiently covered herself Hermione laid back again and closed her eyes, pulling up the fresh and fond memory of the day before.  
  
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Hermione and Draco surfaced, both with their arms full of the orange waterweed. No one was on the grounds. They swam to the edges of the lake and disposed of the watery plant next to their piles of clothes. Draco turned back to Hermione and grinned wolfishly. He pulled her up onto the bank with him, their slick torsos and tails sliding together as one, and he lay upon her.  
  
'Just like the other day,' he murmured huskily, pressing his chest to her breasts. Hermione sighed deeply, savouring the sensation of his weight on top of her. He looked up and hissed a sinful curse.  
  
'Bloody heck, it's Snape and McGonnagal!'  
  
Hermione twisted around and looked up. In the distance she could see the two professors making their way to the lake. Both the Slytherin and Gryffindor scrambled to don their shirts once again, and both had only just buttoned up their last buttons as the older witch and wizard came to a halt on the edges.  
  
'I'm glad to see that you have retrieved a considerable amount of this waterweed!' said McGonnagal. Snape remained silent, a sneer playing on his lips.  
  
'Now,' said Professor McGonnagal in a faltering voice. 'I need to return you to your original bodies.'  
  
Draco and Hermione looked at each other, wondering why the teacher seemed so nervous.  
  
'I understand that when you *do* return to yourselves you will be. half- naked.'  
  
Hermione's eyes widened.  
  
'But,' she hurriedly continued, 'I have come up with a small plan. Slightly far-fetched but it *will* work!'  
  
She beckoned for the two students to come up onto the shore. She then pulled out her wand and muttered another one of her unheard-of spells and Draco and Hermione immediately shrank to size of a normal fish. Hermione shrieked in shock, Draco backed away from the large worm next to him.  
  
'This is a rather *odd* pan, I know, but it will all right. Professor Snape? May I have the bag?'  
  
Snape nodded and handed McGonnalgal a large bag that he had bee holding behind his back. A dim sloshing was heard as he passed it over. McGonnagal opened the bag and inside it was filled with water.  
  
'What the?' exclaimed Draco as he craned his neck to see inside.  
  
'I *did* say it was an odd plan Mr Malfoy.'  
  
Using her wand she levitated the small merpeople and put them into the bag. Draco and Hermione swam about abit in the small space and looked up as McGonnagal clipped the bag shut. Suddenly the water began to churn as though there were large and powerful waves rolling through it. McGonnagal was taking them somewhere.  
  
About ten minutes later the bag was opened once again and Draco felt himself lift up and out of the water by some other force. They were in one of the old prefect bathrooms, and the large Roman style bath was filled with clear water, no bubbles, no soap. The levitation charm was lifted and he dropped into the water with a small splash. He swam to the surface and stared up at the two professors. Snape spoke.  
  
'Professor McGonnagal will perform the charm that will return you to your former body and size. There are towels and clean clothes for you over there on the bench. You may wish to have a proper bath before you get dressed again.'  
  
And with that McGonnagal made her magic and the teachers hurried out before the transformation was complete. Hermione had listened to all off this from the water-filled bag and found that the same happened to her, in the girls' bath through another door. She did decide to have a quick bath, and turned on a random tap which immediately spewed a frothing blue liquid that smelt like coconuts. She scrubbed her body down and quickly washed her hair (and 'to wash ones hair quickly' in Hermione's language meant 'washing ones hair in half an hour').  
  
When she had finished she clambered out, dried herself with the soft towels provided and her hair (for which she used magic) and put on the clothes that had been laid out for her. She walked out into the tiny room that separated the girls' and boys' baths and sat on one of the benches there. She had a question for Draco.  
  
At last Draco immerged, his fingers all wrinkly and his nose shining. He had obviously decided to take a longer bath, and he smelt of Aloe Vera (which made Hermione smile). The misery had also returned to his thin, pale face. Hermione came to the conclusion that without company, Draco was very vulnerable to attacks of depression about his father's death. Draco saw Hermione.  
  
'How long have you been sitting there?'  
  
Hermione didn't answer with what he wanted to hear.  
  
'Why did you kiss me?'  
  
'Why did *you* kiss me?'  
  
'You started it.'  
  
Draco sighed deeply and sat on the bench opposite her.  
  
'I'm not very good at explaining. . .'  
  
He paused and blushed.  
  
'I can only explain things using metaphors and stuff like that.'  
  
Hermione blinked. She never knew that.  
  
'Well if it makes sense,' she said, 'then explain.'  
  
'It's like,' Draco began, trying to find something that would make sense. 'It's like a rock at the top of a hill, my emotions that is, and this rock just keeps getting bigger and bigger with all my pent up feelings, and then one day it gets so big and heavy that it will roll down the hill and smash at the bottom, and that would be me letting out all my emotions. . .'  
  
Hermione nodded. She understood it so far. Draco took a breath and ploughed on.  
  
'It could roll any direction down the hill and carry on down any path before it smashes up. It just so happens that it rolled down the path of passion. And you were the only female I could face with some sort of ease so I just - I just -'  
  
'You just used me.'  
  
'Yes! I mean no - I mean - oh god. . .'  
  
Hermione stood up angrily, as did Draco.  
  
'Well what did you expect?' he cried. 'I'm a Malfoy! I was brought up to *breed* with pretty girls not to *love* them -'  
  
Hermione snarled.  
  
'So you thought you were going to breed with me? Is that it? Like an animal?'  
  
'NO!' he shouted, his voice echoing around the small room. 'I JUST NEEDED TO LET IT OUT!'  
  
'AND TO USE ME IN THE PROCESS!'  
  
A dark, menacing shadow crept over his face, and for a split second Hermione was scared; she had *never* seen him look so furious.  
  
'YOU STUPID MUDBLOOD!' he bellowed. 'I USED YOU! AND I KNOW YOU WANTED IT!'  
  
Hermione started in astonishment. For some odd reason his words stung her like the tip of a whip on her back. Her anger was immense and domineering, it crushed every other emotion in her body. She turned away as unwanted hot tears of shock and fury rolled down her flushing cheeks. Draco's insides squirmed. He never liked to make girls cry.  
  
'Sorry,' he muttered, rather unconvincingly. 'You weren't supposed to cry.'  
  
Hermione wiped the moisture away and turned her back to Draco, her shoulders shaking and her breath ragged.  
  
'I said I was sorry!'  
  
There was no response. It a huffy kind of manner Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed Hermione's arms, spinning her around to face him. He looked deep into her sparkling eyes.  
  
'I. Am. Sorry.'  
  
Hermione said nothing and feebly tried to push the boy away. He didn't let go but held on hard, pulling her closer, seemingly begging for her forgiveness. Hermione granted him his pardon and buried her face into the velvety crook of his neck. Draco responded by rubbing his face into her silky hair. She smelt like coconuts, he smelt like Aloe Vera. Once again the unexplainable and unfathomable passion returned, holding the unlikely pair in its strong and scorching grasp. They kissed and caressed, groped daringly and sucked on each other's necks. When they both pulled away they saw the large, purple love-bites that they had inflicted on the other. Hermione felt at peace again, and rolled her tongue at the soapy taste of Draco's neck. He seemed to be doing the same.  
  
The bell for dinner rang, and the Gryffindor and Slytherin both looked at their watches with raised eyebrows. It had been a very long day and neither had eaten. With the confirmation at eye contact the embrace was broken and the boy and girl hurried out of the bathroom, both choosing different directions from the other. Hermione looked over her shoulder and saw Draco scurrying down some steps. He cursed as they changed direction. With a laugh she hastened herself away, pulling her collar up to hide her hickey.  
  
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Hermione was suddenly dragged from her memories as a loud thud sounded on the door.  
  
'Hermione, are you in there? I need to talk to you.'  
  
She climbed out of the bath and wrapped a towel around herself. What the hell did Ron want now?  
  
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AN ~ That was quite a long chapter! I think. . . Again, I am VERY sorry I took so long to update, you wouldn't believe how much homework seniors get. I had to do 4 pieces tonight! Anyways, tell me what you think, is he Dracoish enough for this sort of situation? Do think the real Draco (a little nicer perhaps) would act like that in this story? Just want some different opinions. Chapter 11 up ASAP. 


	13. A Prolongued Break Not a Chapter

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Just a quick note to say that I am taking a prolonged break from this  
story. It will be finished one day, but that day will not be soon. I am  
sorry for any inconvenience, but it seems as though my inspiration is all  
focused on my other fanfic, a Lord of the Rings fic, called 'Beasts of  
Burden'. It's a Legolas/Aragorn slave fic (non slash) with what the LOTR  
reviewers seem to think is a different twist. If you want to read it, then  
be my guest, if you want to wait for the rest of this story then you can  
also be my guest, but you will be my guest for a very long if you choose to  
do the latter. Again, I am sorry, but homework and writing more than one  
story is a very unhealthy mix. Always luvvin' and appreciating you,  
VeriaMatann.  
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	14. Live Hard, Drink Hard, Fuck Hard

_**Disclaimer:** All characters, places, names etc. belong to the genius that is Jo Rowling, except the characters, places, names etc. that **I **invent._

_**Thanks To:** Absolutely everyone who replied to my notice of 'prolonged break', and to everyone who reviewed the last chapter that I posted. I look back on all the previous chapters and cringe, but hopefully now, two years on, with a few A's received in Story Writing at school, I endeavor to do much, **much** better. Y'know, I might even have a plot developed sometime soon :p_

_**Note:** Well, I have not updated this story for nigh on two years now (I **did** say **prolonged** break…) but now, having just been boosted by a glass of pear cider (yes, **pear** cider) I am ready and raring to get on with some story writing! I know I should be revising for exams but what the bloody heck, I know all that rubbish anyway._

_**Warnings:** Swearing and a few vague sexual innuendos._

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Chapter Eleven

**Live Hard, Drink Hard, Fuck Hard**

Draco awakened, shivering. The late morning was golden and the light strained to embrace all that it fell upon with warmth, but was failing with considerable distinction, to say the least. Yet Draco himself, cocooned in layers of toasty duvet and blanket, continued to shiver and would have done so even if the sunlight that fell upon him held any warmth whatsoever. He remembered the previous night with swelling horror. The memory jabbed at him like a serrated dagger out of an empty darkness. A sheen of chilled sweat could be seen on his pale forehead.

Draco was gripped by nauseating paranoia. Lucius was dead, but was far from gone. He lingered in the world, his ghost still marking the lives of those that had known him, unbeknownst to all but a single boy – his son. Draco sat up slowly, his wide eyes darting all around him, searching everywhere for any sign of his father's ghost; a coil of silver smoke, an unnatural shift of wind, or perhaps the unsettling chill that heralded the presence of the dead. He neither saw nor felt any of these things, and with a trembling sigh he left his bed in the Hospital Wing and prepared himself for a late breakfast.

'What Ron? What do you want? I'm in the middle of having a bath if you don't mind!'

Ron Weasley stammered for a second, distracted by the sight of Hermione wrapped in nothing but a fluffy towel. Her hair was slicked off her face and neck from the bath water. A small clump of bubbles slid idly down her arm. Ron eyed it, to save himself from ogling her wet cleavage. He wished that he could kiss her.

'I – I want to talk to you about – about something...' he murmured vaguely. He was now staring and the hand that Hermione held limply by her side, where the bubbles had slid to. She shook them off distractedly.

'Talk about what, Ron?' asked Hermione, somewhat intrigued now, though still immensely irked at being summoned from her bath and memories. Ron shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot. His long held desire for Hermione, coupled with the current sight of her, dripping, near enough nude, was beginning to weave inappropriate thoughts through the purpose of his visit.

'Well, it's sort of embarrassing, y'know?' His eyes trailed up her arm to her shoulder and his ears blushed. 'It's kind of about you and Malfoy, and kind of about me as well –'

He stopped talking abruptly. He was staring Hermione's neck.

_'What's that?'_ he all but shrieked, pointing at her neck.

'What's what?'

'That! On your neck!' Ron gave Hermione a most incredulous look. 'It's a – it's a – a – _a hickey!'_

'OH!' Hermione gasped in shock, hurrying to hide her neck with her long, wet hair. 'Ron…' But she did not continue, she could not continue, for the look on Ron's bewildered, freckled face was so pained that her tongue was lost beneath a sudden weight of guilt. His head drooped ever so slightly. Hermione bit her lip.

'What were you going to say to me?' she asked gently, speaking to Ron's feet rather than his incredibly red face. Ron also spoke to Hermione's feet rather than her face.

'I was going to ask what – what you and Malfoy, that is to say, what the score is between you two – and...'

Hermione suddenly found that she could not look at any part of Ron's body now. Not even his large, shuffling feet. Her abrupt guilt was beginning to drown her.

'...And I was going to ask – I mean I've _already_ asked – but to ask again, if you would, sort of, if you wouldn't mind, thinking about me and you... together... but it looks as though you've already been spoken for...' He gazed wistfully at the love-bite on her neck.

By now Hermione had closed her eyes, as though the darkness behind her eyelids would make everything go away. But of course it didn't, and she opened them to find Ron's earnest, round eyes boring into her. Hope glinted deep within his eyes, but even further beyond that she could see a rippling pool of dread and stagnant heartache.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered.

Draco made his slow path down to the Great Hall. He was extremely weary and forlorn. His mind was tumbling over itself again and again, like a dizzy child who tries to find his feet as he topples down a hillside. He saw flashes of purple fish scales, billows of cold ghost smoke, dark oaken eyes, breasts and hard nipples... A pleasant stirring began in the pit of his stomach, right down past his belly-button to what lay below.

THUD

Suddenly the vision of Lucius's cold, illuminating face flashed violently across his mind as lightning does across a midnight sky. Draco cried out, falling hard to the flagstones upon which he had been walking.

_'Malfoy!'_

Draco lay panting in shock on the floor, quaking once again. A hissing voice spoke.

'Malfoy, _watch where you are going._ If I was not the Head of your house I would most certainly be inclined to dock points for your careless... Malfoy?'

Severus Snape bent over to look at Draco's face. He was still lying there, shuddering away as if someone has just tipped a bucket of ice-cubes into his boxers.

'Draco...'

Severus leant down and clutched Draco's wrists, hoisting him to his feet. Draco gazed up at his godfather.

'I'm sorry, Severus. I wasn't really looking where I was going. I was thinking, and I'm bloody starving too.'

Severus pursed his thin lips, trying desperately not to reduce himself to the role of 'friendly, bad-mouthed godfather' whilst he was supposed to be assuming the role of 'grumpy old professor'. He gave in.

'Fuck it all, Draco,' he exclaimed gruffly, causing Draco to start. He had never heard his godfather swear at Hogwarts before, only ever at his house or at the Malfoy Manor. Severus was clutching the boy's shoulders and squeezing them reassuringly, trying to transfer as much courage as possible through his cold, black eyes into Draco's pale ones, to help him face what he was having to endure. 'Fuck it all. You only live once, boy. That was something I never realised until it was too late. Don't waste your life, especially your youth (God I wish I was young again) – don't waste any of it by festering in all the shit that's happened. Live hard, drink hard, fuck hard and love every moment of it as though you'll never get another chance to do it again.'

Draco ogled his godfather in plain disbelief.

'That is your new motto Draco. Nevermind _'pureblood might will win the fight and blast all mudbloods to oblivion –'_ (Hermione's face flitted through Draco's mind for an instant) '– or whatever that stupid song the Death Eaters' always sing is – my point is, live your own life, go by your new motto that I've given you, and if you don't you shall be serving detentions with me for the rest of your school days.'

Draco's eyes became slits.

'You sound like you're trying to relive your youth through me.'

Severus straightened. His hands left Draco's shoulders and the small fire that had kindled in his eyes was suddenly diminished, leaving behind the dark, empty tunnels that everyone was so accustomed to looking into.

'I wish I could,' he said coldly. 'Your third day of detention with Miss Granger starts at one o' clock this afternoon.' He straightened his robes, turned on his heel and swept away. His black cloak billowed out behind him as per usual. Draco was left alone, sighing moodily.

Harry walked briskly into the Great Hall. He had been out for a solitary flying session all across the grounds of the castle. He felt exceptionally invigorated and was ready to wolf down at least three full English Breakfasts. He spotted a shock of messy red hair at the Gryffindor table and went towards it.

'Alright, mate?' he said cheerily, plonking himself down next to Ron and propping his Stormchaser against the bench next to him (the newest and most superior model of broomstick available, outstripping the 'old' Firebolt by far.) Ron looked up. His face was glum and he seemed to be edging onto the point annoyance.

'What've you bought that in for?' he said sulkily, glaring at the Stormchaser.

'Oh, I'm going back out when I've had something to eat. It's quite a nice day Ron; you ought to come out too, though there were some big dark clouds coming over. . . Y'know what?' He took a large bite out of a crumpet. 'I don' fink you'f looked a' tha' Firebolt _once_ since I gafe i' to you.' He swallowed and frowned pensively at his friend. 'What's up, mate? You're not jealous of the Stormchaser are you? You looked like you've just been told that you've got to have your balls chopped off.'

Ron snarled and slammed his knife and fork down on the table. Harry looked stunned and affronted.

'I'll tell you what's bloody well up,' he said viciously. He caught the look on Harry's face. 'No no, Harry – mate, I'm not angry with _you_. . .' He glanced up to the staff table. Professor McGonagall had looked up at the sound up Ron's cutlery as he had smashed it against the table, but her piercing gaze was once again upon her bowl of steaming porridge. 'I'll tell you what's up – _Hermione_.'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'You've had _another_ argument?'

'Yes –'(Harry tutted and shook his head) '– but for a bloody decent reason this time! It's about her and Malfoy.'

Harry looked up, his eyes sharp and narrow. He motioned for Ron to tell him what had happened. Ron fulfilled this task in low hisses and snarls. He swore harshly several times, causing a small group of Ravenclaw second years to eye him in shock from the table behind him.

'And then you know what she said?' cried Ron, his voice rising in fury. _' "I'm sorry – it's Malfoy's love-bite." '_

_'What?'_ Harry lost his grip on the knife that he was using to butter his fourth crumpet with. He glanced up as he tried to wipe the butter off the front of his robes and saw Snape swoop into the Great Hall, a look of bitterness on his face that was more pronounced and more solemn than usual. 'Wonder what's up with that old git,' he muttered darkly. Ron looked over and shrugged.

'Maybe he's just figured out that everyone hates him,' he said, turning back to Harry. 'Anyway Harry, I've got a feeling. . .'

'Have you?' said Harry, grinning cheekily as he eyed Ginny Weasley with much interest as she entered the Great Hall and sat down nearby. 'Yes, I've got a feeling too, y'know – it's quite a nice feeling...'

Ron thumped him lightly on the arm, smiling lightly.

'But seriously mate, what I reckon, is that Hermione, well... Well, she seemed pretty upset about the whole hicky thing and – and I reckon that Malfoy, you know, well, had her by force, if you know what I mean...'

'Are you saying that Malfoy did that to Hermione against her will?'

Ron nodded vigorously, his eyes big and round. He did not comment that Harry was just about to make for a sixth crumpet.

'Yeah, think about it,' he said. 'I mean, Hermione isn't that kind of girl really.'

Harry nodded thoughtfully. Ron was glad that Harry could not see into his mind as lewd images of naked activities between himself and Hermione danced around in his mind. Harry nodded again.

'Yeah...' he murmured slowly. 'He seems like the smarmy kind of git who would take advantage like that...'

They both glanced over to the Slytherin table. Draco had in fact just walked through the doors, in a somewhat disheartened manner, but his old swagger was starting to shine through again, just faintly.

'Look at him,' spat Ron, as Pansy Parkinson tried to get Draco to sit down beside her. 'Strutting in here like that, I'll bet he's all pleased with himself for what he's done to Hermione...'

They continued to watch as Draco shooed away all the people who tried to speak to him with scowls and swear words, whilst gathering up bits of toast and crumpets in a napkin, evidently meaning to take them away and eat elsewhere. Harry and Ron watched him with narrow eyes as he walked back out of the Great Hall. Harry glanced up at the enchanted ceiling. It showed that the sky had been hidden with heavy grey clouds as they had been speaking, and a thick sleet was falling. It almost felt like night time.

'Don't worry,' he muttered to Ron in an ominous voice, picking up his Stormchaser. 'Leave him, I'll sort him out.' Ron watched Harry as he skulked away with his broomstick, following Draco out of the Great Hall.

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_**Author's Note:** Well, well, well. This story is certainly back from the grave. I hope you liked it. I doubt I will have caught any new reviewers, but I definitely hope to hear from the old ones! I've got Chapter 12 all planned, so it should be up sometime this week (probably not till the weekend actually, coz I've got 6 more exams this week!) Anyhoo, apologies for the OOC Snape, but I've always wanted to make him swear. Constructive criticism is most welcome, opinions and plot ideas too. No flames please. I find flames to be incredibly obnoxious little things. I'm perfectly aware of the fact that I have totally lost the feel of this story; I can't really remember where I was going with it. Sorry if some things here do not relate with previous chapters. **Chapter 12 up ASAP.**_


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